And a Little Cat Shall Lead Him
by Butane Baby
Summary: Vegeta finds his emotions and opinion of himself challenged by a surprisingly tough teacher. How he manages these tests will guide his choices about Bulma and her importance to him. The story takes place during the "three-year gap" and contains explicit events and adult language.
1. Extremes

**This story hit me as I attempted to untangle another one. How we see our animals, and how they see us, tells us a lot about ourselves. Sometimes they totally have the upper hand - cats especially. There is some sexual content in later chapters, so that's my basic warning. Thank you for reading, and leave some reviews if you get the urge. I always appreciate them!**

 **I do not own any part of the Dragon Ball franchise. Akira Toriyama holds that honor. Aren't we lucky?**

* * *

Like most cats, Tama had a ferocious, endless curiosity about her surroundings. Luckily, the Capsule Corporation compound had countless hiding places as well as outdoor activities that seemed made for her. Yet, on many days, her favorite resting area was atop Dr. Brief's shoulder. They were each other's loyal companions - more so than his wife Panchy and daughter Bulma. She was Tama's second-favorite human to follow around, though. The young scientist's professional demeanor was more like her father's, and she shared his love for animals.

Bulma's temper, however, could be frightful. Her never-ending, occasionally screeching arguments with then-boyfriend Yamcha would drive most people away from the scene, let alone a cat. But Tama was good at comforting her after the uproar. She took pride in her duty, just like when she delivered some unfortunate and clearly dead mouse to "her humans." Being a tuxedo cat, she also was used to people fawning over her. Her shiny, jet-black fur and white paws were attention grabbers, but she didn't entertain everyone touching her without permission. Without reservation, she would scratch the living hell out of those deemed unworthy. It was her world. Everyone else lived in it.

Lately, Bulma and her father had been working furiously in their machine laboratory. Tama's blue-grey eyes darted back-and-forth as the two moved around to bang on their oversized "toys," which she eagerly wanted to explore. She usually took the Briefs' perpetual noise-making in stride, but this time was different. A strange newcomer on the premises - a man - had commanded their attention. His presence was upending her formerly carefree life and deference she normally received. She was displeased.

Tama had never seen anyone like him before, but she instantly sensed his unfriendliness after he arrived. He didn't seem to like anyone, really. Worse, his scent reminded her of an angry dog. Her primary instinct was to avoid him, which she largely did, but like most cats she remained curious. Bulma's scent changed whenever the newcomer was around, too. When Tama saw them together, she would drop and roll on the ground to distract her mistress - or meowed like someone was killing her. One time she peed on the dirt in plain sight. The man always stood still, expressionless and unmoved by her behavior.

Tama had been relaxing outside one day when she saw the man watching from a distance. She soon leapt to her feet and grunted at him for disturbing her rest. He continued staring until she sauntered away, her tail thrashing defiantly. Bulma, who was walking nearby, laughed at them both.

"Why are you annoying my father's cat, Vegeta?"

Vegeta slowly pivoted toward her. He looked much darker from being outside all day. The tan definitely enhanced his striking physical features, she thought, but his attitude and aloofness left much to be desired - a lot of much.

"So that is what you call that vile creature?" he said.

Bulma squinted at him. He had never shown much interest in animals. Her parents had plenty of them, too, but Tama had run of the place. He knew that from the beginning.

"Her name is Tama."

"Did you not just call it cat?"

"Now you're just giving me a hard time," Bulma replied flatly. "Cats are one of the oldest species on Earth. They're also beloved pets."

"Pets?" Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. "Humans are so sentimental - almost to a fault. It's pathetic, really. I recall similar-looking beasts from my childhood. They were skinned and eaten. I remember them being rather delicious."

Bulma's lips twisted in disgust. Sometimes she questioned her sanity for giving this snappish, arrogant little man a place to live, let alone use her high-quality equipment. Her friends certainly had no problem telling her she was crazy to do it - especially because of Vegeta's volatile past - but she had always been adventurous.

"Okay, I'm done here," she said. "My cat better not come up missing, either. There's plenty of food in the house already. _Wait. What am I saying?_ I can't believe we're even having this conversation. _Don't eat my fucking cat, Vegeta_."

" _Hn_." Vegeta placed his arms behind his head. "You might actually like how your pet tastes. Now then, are you finished? I was enjoying my solitude."

Bulma heard faint beeping from his direction. She had to return to the lab. He didn't bother to turn around as she jogged past him.

"You are a pompous ass!"

"Yes, I am," Vegeta replied.

Vegeta continued watching Tama from afar when he could. Simpler life forms barely registered in his psyche most of the time, but this animal intrigued him. Perhaps his interest was borne out of aloneness. Being in the presence of others meant little because he would still feel alone. He had always relied on himself. He trained by himself. He had hit rock bottom by himself - severely beaten and bloodied by those who tried their best to crush his pride - yet, somehow, he was still there.

He wondered how this one creature could be affectionate and aloof, dependent and independent. The behavior seemed absurd, he believed. But it was quite obvious to Vegeta that Tama had earned her fighter bona fides long ago. The Briefs probably thought she hadn't won fights when she returned home injured at times. They cooed over her like a child. She allowed them to treat her like that at home, but she was all grown-up when roaming outside.

They both observed each other's impressive capacity for acrobatics. Vegeta committed Tama's spirals, back flips, and twists to memory for training and improvisation. He may have worked out alone, but, as a fighter, he was accustomed to watching others and making their moves work for him.

Sometimes the noise in his head demanded his departure from external stimulation.

His interactions with Bulma - and everyone else - were difficult because his behavior often swung between two extremes: calculating discipline and self-destructive recklessness. The day he almost killed himself training in the gravity machine was an example. Bulma slept next to his bed every night. When he emerged from his brief coma, he wondered why the woman was there. He certainly wasn't inviting her affection. Watching him from her perch, Tama promptly meowed to awaken her mistress.

"You conniving little bitch," he said under his breath. "You just _had_ to do that."

Tama's ears swerved in his direction. Then she meowed louder.


	2. Disarray

**Thank you for the enthusiastic response to the first chapter! I enjoyed writing it.**

* * *

Several months after his recovery, Vegeta had begun to feel odd in a different way. He had been waking up more often with red and itchy eyes - and more tired. The sensations would typically subside after bathing and exercising, but sometimes they returned when he frequented certain areas of the house or the lab.

Early one morning Bulma found him in the kitchen looking miserable. His food was partially eaten - that shocked her - and his eyes and nose were a light shade of crimson, and he was sniffling.

"You look like hell," she said. "Shouldn't you be training? You're usually awake before all of us. Is something wrong?"

Vegeta let out a harsh breath. "I did not sleep well last night. Now leave me alone."

"So what happened? You sound a little hoarse."

"Woman, I said… I said leave me! _Heeshu!"_ Vegeta rubbed his eyes and sniffled. "What part of _leave me alone_ do you not understand? _Echhhu!_ "

Bulma stared at him. "Uh, bless you?"

"I do not… _eh…eh.. echuu!_ I do not need to be to be blessed, whatever that means. _Echhh!"_

Vegeta's sneezing episodes at night were obviously getting worse. Now he was waking up with them. It had been that way for weeks since Bulma and her parents left for their two-month holiday. He had not been excited about their return either. They would likely insist that he undergo more unpleasant medical tests. Compared with his past injuries, this problem still seemed trivial. His trusted that his body would eventually conquer whatever it was.

"Oh my," Bulma said with a wide grin. "You sound sick." She tried to conceal her amusement at his unsuccessful attempts to control himself. The embarrassment was unbearable for him. He had to get away from her, but not before grabbing a stack of napkins to wipe his increasingly runny nose.

He struck the kitchen counter. " _Heshuu!"_ Napkins flew everywhere. "I feel fine! Saiyans are rarely ill."

Bulma was thankful that Vegeta had enough self-control to not break the ceramic tiles. _He's becoming more polite._

She could barely contain her laughter as he stormed out. "Let me know if you need tissues, your lordship! Napkins can irritate sensitive noses."

" _Shut up, Bulma!_ "

Bulma almost felt guilty about her schadenfreude - but not that much. After making sure Vegeta was far, far away, Tama tiptoed over to rub her ankles. The cat wanted to be picked up and nuzzled, which the young woman happily did. "Tama, this isn't good. Did you miss us, pretty kitty? Did that jerk try to act civilized while we were gone? Now I have to figure out what's happening without him going berserk on me. He's becoming more trouble than what he's worth. Go play now. Dad has been looking for you."

Tama liked being where she was, but she conceded to Bulma's wishes and jumped down to the floor. She had other goals to fulfill before seeing Dr. Brief, though: first a nap and then more play time outside.

Bulma had an idea as the cat ran upstairs: follow her.

Vegeta forced himself to train hard after leaving the kitchen. He still felt run-down, but the adrenaline flowing through his body cleared his mind. A great workout equaled relief from his symptoms, even as they had become more severe. He often left clean clothes outside on a bench next door to training room, which had a standalone shower and steam room. On this day, Tama had been captivated by white ball of socks, but she was having trouble deciding whether to play with it. A neatly rolled pair of men's briefs underneath enticed her too. She could use the fabric for finishing touches on another one of her many nesting sites. If all went well, she would return for the socks.

The strange man had lived there long enough to be more civil. Maybe he and Bulma could play with her together! Those two didn't yell as much, which Tama's sensitive ears appreciated; usually they would argue intensely before going their separate ways. Sometimes the man left home for a couple days. He spent a lot of time alone.

Feeling better, Vegeta left the gravity room drenched in sweat and ready to shower. He had counted each piece of clothing - down to his shoelaces - before leaving to train. He always stacked his apparel in the exact same order too, but this time his belongings were in disarray - and his underwear was gone.

A dirt trail leading away from the bench exposed the culprit. Veins bulged from Vegeta's temples. _That animal is going to die…painfully!_

Flying to find the cat would've been improper, so Vegeta took off running. Meanwhile, Tama had found a comfy spot under the outdoor gazebo where no one could reach her unless someone destroyed the structure. Vegeta was so blinded by fury and embarrassment that he failed to see Bulma strolling cheerfully to her machine lab. She was carrying various wires, large and small, on both shoulders.

Vegeta took her down within seconds after tripping on the wires. They didn't collide head-on, thankfully. He managed to shield her from striking ground with full force.

Dazed and covered in cables, Bulma looked up at him. " _What the hell are you doing, Vegeta?_ You could have killed me! _"_

"Your demonic cat stole my underwear!"

Bulma smacked the back of his head. "It can be replaced, you idiot! And what exactly had you planned to do with Tama? Apparently she snatched your garment because she likes you better now, and only god knows why that is. She made her approval clear by taking a prized possession."

" _My underwear, Bulma_? You and that damned cat are out of your minds! If you consider that being liked, I prefer hatred. At least I would know what I am dealing with. And why are you carrying all these blasted wires?"

Each time they tried to get up, the more tangled they became. Finally, Bulma erupted in laughter. She had so much life in her, Vegeta thought. She also seemed unfazed by lying in the dirt. She was more versatile and comfortable with herself than he realized. He had not paid close attention in all the time he had lived there. That was by choice.

And there they were, stuck together.

"I like seeing you tied up," he said.

Bulma brushed smudges from his face and workout shirt. "I am not surprised in the least about your affection for bondage, Vegeta."

He couldn't stop looking at her eyes. They were stunning. Not once in recent memory could he describe anything that way. When Bulma's breathing softened, he pulled her up for their first kiss. Time had stopped just for them, and the feeling was sublime.

Then Vegeta felt a tickle in his throat. The time clock was ticking again. Panic ensued. _No, no, no! Not now!_

Pushing Bulma away from him, Vegeta fell backward to cover his face. " _Eesch! Hee-shu eesch!_ " He was more congested than ever, and her sympathetic look was maddening. Here he was, brought to his knees - literally - by this malady. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die - a deep one. He considered digging it himself.

"Okay, that's it," Bulma said. "Get up and come with me, big guy."

"Do not give me orders." Vegeta grumbled and wiped his eyes. "I have other things to do. We were unfocused just now, so this interruption happened at the right time."

Irritated, Bulma kicked a mound of dirt onto his shoes. "I am not ordering you. I know what the problem is. It's more than an interruption."

"There is no…no _..._ _eesch_ _!_ There is no problem, Bulma."

"And you are a stubborn fool," she said. "You don't usually run from street fights. I'm surprised you aren't eager to conquer this. Didn't you just say you have better things to do, or has my hearing gone bad?"

"Stop talking and find me a tissue," Vegeta snapped. "I am going to… going to…" Bulma held a thick handkerchief over his nose while he sneezed repeatedly. Luckily, she was still wearing a lab glove on that hand. His vulnerability almost seemed cute. Then again, using cute and Vegeta in the same sentence scrambled Bulma's brain.

"Meet me in 30 minutes after you bathe," she said, "and take the handkerchief. I definitely don't need it anymore."

Vegeta clenched his jaw and nodded. "Fine."


	3. Equal Force

Bulma was drawing solution into a large needle when Vegeta arrived. She kept a calm face despite being slightly concerned. Small welts had appeared on his arms, and he was wheezing somewhat.

He pulled his shoulders in closer on both sides. "Is that for me?"

"What does it look like, Vegeta?"

"Woman, you are not injecting me with anything until…"

Bulma tapped the needle. "You have developed an allergy. Looks like a nasty one, too."

"Allergy? Allergic to what? I have been here almost a year now. I exercise daily."

"Let's do a little investigation." Bulma tapped the needle again. "Your worst sneezing attacks are at night in your room and early morning, is that correct? I suspect you have also felt unwell in other carpeted rooms or around plush furniture in our house."

At the moment Vegeta felt _impatient_ , and his arms itched terribly. He thought she was having way too much fun watching him suffer.

"Yes to both, Bulma," he said. "Now get on with it."

"Adults can develop allergies. Sometimes it's a gradual build-up as you're exposed more to the source." Bulma injected the solution. "That's what's happened with you. It was faster than most, looks like."

"And the source is?"

"Vegeta, from now on, keep your doors and windows closed when you're not there. Apparently the cat has been sleeping in your room, mostly on your bed, for a while. I caught her doing it today. I confirmed that you were allergic after we had… our moment together on the ground earlier. You were sneezing from the dander on my lab coat. It was probably in my hair, too. Tama had been all over me before I saw you. I'm surprised you didn't recognize that she had invaded your room. She doesn't shed much, but cats do leave some hair around."

"So do Saiyan males," he replied. "I probably did not notice because our bodies shed hair too. It happens every two years or so."

"Okay." Bulma tried to be nonjudgmental about that comment. He was trying to be open with her in his own peculiar way.

"So explain this to me again, Bulma. Why am I barred from torturing and ripping the limbs from that creature? And what did you just inject me with?"

"Benadryl. It's an older antihistamine that works well for emergencies like this. Dad and I will have someone to help you with longer-term treatment - because we aren't getting rid of the cat, dude. Frankly, it's good that we discovered this problem now. If you're sensitive to Tama, you may be far more allergic to other animal or plant species on Earth, which could possibly kill you."

"I highly doubt that," Vegeta said, "but I do find your casual tone about my death strangely disturbing. I am not staying on this planet forever, either."

"See, you're feeling better already!" Bulma smiled. "You will be back to normal soon enough. Your bedroom and sitting room are being cleaned as we speak. We'll improve the ventilation and cleaning schedule throughout the house so you won't be affected, no matter where our cat is. Now get the hell out of my lab."

Vegeta demurred. "And what if I choose not to?"

Bulma returned to the medicine fridge. "Do as you will, but I suggest that you rest. I gave you a large dose of this drug. You haven't felt the full impact yet. I need to return to the machine lab, so…"

"That can wait." Vegeta slid his arms around Bulma's waist from the back. His physical warmth relaxed her instantly, as if his body were custom-made to fit her. She leaned on his chest while his hands stroked her hips. He turned her to face him.

"Did you not hear what I said, Vegeta? Are you going to sneeze all over me again? You nose is still red."

He kissed her forehead. "I guarantee nothing, and I said your other duties can wait." He raised Bulma's arms over her head and pressed her against the wall. Then he brushed his lips along her neck and shoulders until she felt compelled to unfasten his pants.

Vegeta moved her arms back to the wall. Amused, Bulma laughed and tried again.

" _No."_ His voice dropped to a whisper. _"Touch me all you want, but our clothes stay on._ _Do you understand_? _Say it_."

Bulma shivered as Vegeta's body circled faster around her midsection. " _Yes._ "

She panted when he pressed in harder, lifting her slightly. Her stance widened, making room for his finger to caress the growing wet spot between her legs. Then he placed it in his mouth.

" _Hhmm…ah… yes."_ Bulma's mind blurred. _"Stay right there. Please."_

" _Yes, what?"_ Vegeta increased the friction. " _Give me what I want. Say it, woman._ "

" _Ha.._. a _h_... _ah…yes, I understand."_ Bulma closed her eyes, lowering her head as his finger bore down in her pants. _"Yes… our clothes stay on. Ah…ha…ah..._ "

Vegeta sucked air through his teeth. Bulma's hands were tracing the slope of his lower back. His member was swollen and beginning to thrust. He had to re-establish control.

" _You are not paying attention, Bulma. Look up at me now…and give me… the…ah… right answer. Have you…mmm... forgotten who I am?_ "

Bulma's arms grabbed at his pants again. " _Please."_

" _I said no!"_ Vegeta shook his head and pushed harder. _"Now…mmm… now look at me and say… my… name, damn it!"_

" _Yes…ah…Prince Vegeta! Prince… Vegeta."_

 _"That is right."_

He kissed her deep and hard as if he had found an oasis in the desert. Bulma, with her arms wrapped around neck, returned the gesture with equal force as their bodies fell to the floor. Then she seized Vegeta's face and gazed into his eyes. She had to see the person behind them. Startled, he winced and looked away from her.

One would have thought she had slapped him.

Bulma let him go. Her caring nature and loneliness had clouded her reasoning. She wanted every ounce of him, but she couldn't allow herself to be emotionally devoured by Vegeta's inability to see past himself. It was his fatal flaw.

"We cannot do this," she said to him. "Just leave. Please."

Vegeta lifted her chin. "So where will I sleep tonight?" Bulma exhaled as he inserted his finger in her mouth.

"I had another room prepared," she replied, removing his hand. "You have fresh sets of clothes there, but you will likely fall asleep as soon as you arrive. I can see the drug is making you drowsy now, in spite of what just happened."

"Consider this the one time that I will trust your wisdom, Bulma. Our clothes are still on. We shall not take this further." Then he strode out.


	4. Frailty, thy name is woman

**Blame lack of sleep for using the Bard to entitle this chapter.**

* * *

"Vegeta? Vegeta? How are you feeling?"

Bulma was sitting next to him. Feeling her hand on his shoulder, Vegeta rolled over and yawned. "Ugh. I am so thirsty. How long have I been asleep?"

"For a day, so it's a little after 5 p.m. Thirst is a side-effect from the medicine I gave you."

He grimaced. "An entire day? Really?"

"Your body needed this," Bulma replied. "Remember, I gave you a big dose of the drug, and you were already exhausted from lack of sleep. You sound much better, though."

"Well, I do not need tending in this way from you anymore -but I am hungry."

"Get your food by your damn self," Bulma said, feeling annoyed by his abrupt dismissal. "I'm not your maid. Regardless, you need a separate round of shots to straighten out your overactive immune system. They should protect you for years, we believe."

"I am not doing it." Vegeta said, drawing his blanket over his chest. "The reaction I had was a fluke."

Bulma felt her face turning red from frustration. "I'm so tired of this, you ungrateful, petulant, childish man - and I am _fed up_ with your moodiness. One minute you're all over me, and the next minute I get this crap from you."

Vegeta reclined in his bed and sighed. His disapproval of Bulma's anger matched his exasperation. _Self-pity is not an attractive attribute. Too bad she does not recognize it._

"Ungrateful? You still do not understand, do you? Woman, I may be all of those things, but _you_ chose to house me. _Accept that_ \- and, as I recall, _you_ rejected me yesterday. Do not insult me to avoid responsibility for your decisions, because I have no guilt at all about mine. I know why I am here, and that is to train and understand how your low-class, simple-minded friend 'Goku' accomplished an act that I have not as a Saiyan warrior.

"Defeating these 'androids' is a challenge _I will win_ , with or without help from your weakling friends, who foolishly believe they are worthy fighters. You and your father have provided all the tools I need, willingly. He may not know everything about me, but he is accomplished in his own right. Therefore, he understands implicitly what drives me _as a man ..._ more than you ever will."

Bulma stopped herself from snickering. _My god. What a drama queen._ _Oh, the tragedy!_ _I can't believe he's playing the man-card. Not an appealing look for him._

"Perhaps my father does understand you more, but he is also at peace with himself, Vegeta. You aren't - and from what I'm hearing, you may never be. But I still hope that happens one day, whether you remain here or not - and whether you achieve what Goku has with his fighting talents. And yes, I am wholly responsible for my choices."

"Fancy that," Vegeta said. "See there, you learned something."

"You aren't of this world _in mind or spirit,_ Vegeta," Bulma continued. "I've been wrong to expect more than what you're equipped to give _personally_ to anyone, beyond fighting on our side this time. That's why I pushed you away - but you should own your bullshit too. You felt something good with me yesterday and selfishly took advantage in the same way you've done with everything else in your life. Now you regret it. _Accept that -_ and trust me, babe, I am no victim."

"You overestimate your skill at analyzing me."

Bulma nodded and approached the door. "The shooter bots should be ready by noon tomorrow for your obstacle training in the gravity chamber. My father will observe in case of malfunctions. Your reinforced battle armor, gloves, and footwear will be ready in a week. I recommend adjusting the firepower to a lower level until you have them."

"Noted. You have said your piece, Bulma. I will be ready for tomorrow."  
 **  
**Vegeta's rebuff didn't really hurt her. Was she fuming? Certainly - but Bulma also knew the Saiyan prince carried a massive list of "humiliations" inside his head - real or perceived - that triggered his aggravating behavior. She couldn't imagine lugging that kind of mental weight around, let alone drawing enough strength from it to become an accomplished fighter and military commander, as he did.

To be sure, that list often motivated Vegeta to accomplish extraordinary feats, when it didn't drive him to underestimate the challenges facing him. With Frieza dead, he was now free to redefine his life. That was a lot to ask of someone who spent almost one-third of existence serving under a dictator - although Vegeta would probably never see it that way. Now, his default response was throwing rebellious punches at everyone in sight, deserved or not.

God forbid if a psychiatrist ever met with him, Bulma thought. Being as smart as he was, Vegeta's antics would likely drive any therapist to alcoholism - or, perhaps, kill the person "accidentally." She chuckled at this otherwise gloomy thought. Then she felt somewhat guilty. The man had survived brutal humiliations that would have left other people permanently broken: the destruction of his planet and savage beating on Namek by Frieza; his bloody, tearful confession to Goku about the fate of their race; and, especially, his devastation at not being the prophesied, all-powerful Saiyan warrior of legend who would avenge them, restoring his honor.

Still, Vegeta was damned lucky to have a second chance at life, considering the cruelties he inflicted on others while serving in Frieza's army - often in ways Bulma didn't care to know more about. She had seen enough of _that man_ on Namek, when they first met. Despite all of this, he had become an unexpected ally - one who would perhaps save them all from the terror Earth would eventually face from the androids within another two years.

He would eventually accept treatment for his ailment, and that was all that mattered to Bulma right then. The stakes were too high for everyone else she loved - and for Vegeta.

###

It was pitch-black outside, and Vegeta had finally stopped ripping bark from a helpless old oak tree behind the gazebo. The damage he inflicted would probably cause another spat with Bulma if he were in the mood to tolerate it, which he wasn't. The giant, moss-covered relic was half dead anyway. He thought it was a proper mercy killing.

 _You aren't of this world in mind or spirit.  
_  
Humans had many annoying habits, one of them being their fixation on repeating irrefutable facts - proving points that don't require more proof. Bulma was especially horrible at this, in his opinion. Her observation was one-hundred percent accurate, so it shouldn't have irritated him. But it did.

 _What a foolish statement._ How dare that insolent woman pass judgment, as if he were seeking acceptance from mortals who were clearly beneath him. Not a chance.

 _The prince of all Saiyans bows before no one. Not this time. Not ever again.  
_  
And he would never be king.

He was a sojourner - a temporary resident. Being a migrant strengthened him, he felt, by blocking worthless personal attachments. Power, in and of itself, was a noble end. Achieving and maintaining it - sometimes ruthlessly - guided almost all relationships, he believed. One was worthy of his company or not. Most people would never be. Fear and domination were easier to manage… and play around with.

Vegeta understood the complexities of using people better than most. He had been exploited throughout his life. The thought of being genuinely cared for by anyone was absurd. The beautiful young scientist he seduced in the medical lab was no exception. Bulma needed to get over herself. She wanted to claim his body as much as he wanted to tame hers. His comment the day before about trusting her judgment about not having sex was all bullshit. He smiled and licked his lips.

 _She will return for more._

Of course she would! Perish the thought that he would ever be smitten with her. His attraction was carnal. Whether Bulma developed feelings later - which Vegeta arrogantly believed she would - was irrelevant. No doubt that those emotions would focus entirely on her fulfillment, not his. He would refused to be used in this way.

"Rowwwrrrr…"

 _What the hell is that?_ _Have I been speaking out loud?_

Indeed he was, and Tama had enough of Vegeta's long-winded, angst-ridden Shakespearean monologue in the yard. Was he Hamlet or Macbeth? Who the fuck cared? He was scaring away the squirrels and crickets! She _had_ to stop him, for his sake and for hers. The growls were courteous warning shots before shitting on his head from her tree roost. If he continued blathering, a carpet-bombing of poo would serve a worthy cause.

"You _miserable_ little wretch." Vegeta conjured up a fiery marble of energy - tiny enough to fry a cat - on his right trigger finger. "How dare you snarl at me."

"Rowwwrrrr…"

He slowly elevated himself to Tama's resting place and glowered. She didn't bat an eye.

"Cat, do you know I have killed people for lesser wrongs against me?"

Tama squatted down with her ears slightly raised. She didn't fear dying by his hand.


	5. Charmed

**Glad to see all you new followers. Welcome. :)**

* * *

"I know you are here, old man," Vegeta said. "Show yourself."

Dr. Brief stepped forward in the rising moonlight with a wrinkled cigarette drooping from his mouth. His unkempt, bristle-brush mustache almost hid his playful grin. The man rarely left the house, especially at night, without some kind of smoking accessory, including cigars, pipes, or bidis. For the life of him, Vegeta couldn't understand how anyone would want that garbage. He would rather take his chances with deadly allergic reactions.

"Meeeww!"

Dr. Brief clicked his tongue twice. "Tama, come down here, honey. It's time to leave our esteemed guest alone." The cat immediately descended from the tree so he could pick her up. Vegeta rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Enough of this heartwarming reunion," he said. "How did you know I was out here, Brief?"

"What if I told you a hoarde of squirrels were running from this direction, Vegeta? I thought maybe rain was coming, or perhaps an earthquake. Animals are quite perceptive, you know."

" _Tch_." Vegeta crossed his arms and returned to the ground. "Are they really? Your cat must be severely brain-damaged then."

Dr. Brief snorted through his laughter. The noise soured Vegeta's stomach, which usually was difficult to do.

"Tama certainly has you mad as a hornet's nest, son. I'm curious, though. Why haven't you made good on those numerous threats to kill her? You've had more than enough time."

Vegeta rubbed his forehead. He wondered how long it would take the old man to say why he was there.

"Your companion remains alive because I still need you to assist me, as much as _I_ _hate_ saying that. Why do you think I use my senses to track your whereabouts? You must stay unharmed for now. What happens to you later is not my concern, but I will gladly return and set that cat on fire."

Dr. Brief shook his head as Vegeta walked past him. "Tama sure is a lot like my daughter, _isn't she_ , Vegeta? Maybe that's the real reason you can't take that next step."

Vegeta stopped in his tracks. _The man must be losing his senses. Is Bulma is aware of this problem? I need him to work!_

"Did I just hear you correctly? Tell me you are not comparing Bulma to that creature."

"Oh, stop acting simple-minded," Dr. Brief replied. "You know exactly what I mean, Saiyan. Tama is just as free-spirited and tough as Bulma. She holds her own in a fight, as you just found out. You thought I didn't know that. You are charmed by her."

Vegeta shut his eyes to remain patient, and he did not turn around. "I should have murdered the cat when I had the chance. And for your information, I recognized her fighting skills long ago. She put herself in a weak position this evening."

Dr. Brief extinguished his cigarette and sighed. "Stay away from my daughter, Vegeta."

"Brief, you are walking on shaky ground. I suggest that you…"

" _Don't tell me_ what to do on my home turf, young man! I'm not afraid of you. I should be, feasibly, but the older one gets, the less one cares about pissing off assholes like you."

"And your point is, doctor?"

"Besides my wife and Bulma's sister, that girl is the most precious thing to me. I cannot have her distracted, and like you said, you need us."

"I have not done anything!" Vegeta snapped. The lie slipped off his tongue so fast that he almost felt ashamed.

 _Yeah, right._

"I wonder how angry Bulma would be hearing this."

"Frankly, I don't care," Dr. Brief said, examining his now bare-naked oak tree. He considered it a metaphor for Vegeta's state of mind. The prince had experienced significant trauma, and now his clashing emotions were being stripped apart, piece by piece. For someone as hot-blooded Vegeta, this was a dangerous place to be. Bulma couldn't be drawn into his quicksand, not if her father had anything to say about it.

"Vegeta, I may be old, but I'm not near death either - and I'm very much a man. I saw what happened between you on the grounds yesterday. It won't be long before you fully act on that desire, unless you restrain yourself. You are capable, I'm sure."

" _Hn_. I do not have to explain myself to you."

"No, you don't, son. You obviously heard me, though, or else you wouldn't still be standing here - and I would be dead and buried, regardless of your need for help."

"Consider me gone then," Vegeta said. "We meet at the gravity room at what time tomorrow?"

"At 8 a.m.," Dr. Brief said.

"That is late for me."

"Do I look like I care? I'm testing the bots again before you arrive. Now sod off so I can enjoy my next cigarette."

Vegeta's head was throbbing, but he apparently just learned a new curse word from the old man. At least he got that reward. He committed human vulgarities to memory for future use, along with several rude hand gestures. Bulma knew many colorful ones.

 _These people have been on the verge of destruction repeatedly since I met them - before I met them - yet they have the nerve to be mouthy. I do not know how much more of this I can take.  
_

 _###_

It had been a year and a half now since Vegeta had been living at the Capsule estate with the Briefs, and for Bulma, it was getting harder to pretend that everything was normal. Lives were in serious danger. His intense presence reminded her of that daily, and the stress was wearing her down. Still, she and Dr. Brief managed to run their business and support Vegeta's training successfully.

For his part, the Saiyan prince rewarded their efforts with the hardest labor he could offer. Bulma and her father couldn't help but admire his work ethic, in spite of his attitude. These days, Bulma sometimes had to remind herself that he wasn't heroically taxing himself just for them. Vegeta had a huge axe to grind with Son Goku, and that concerned her just as much as their future battle with the androids. There would be hell to pay between the two rivals later on - if they lived.

When he wasn't training, Vegeta was trying to learn new things. That is, he felt more comfortable now showing interest. It was always there. Sometimes, when he cooled off from exercising, he would listen to educational recordings. He hadn't told Bulma directly, but she knew, and he eventually shared it with her. Everyone recognized that he was whip-smart, but thoughtful?

Who the heck was this?

Bulma never made a big deal about his discoveries but instead listened and answered questions like a peer, not like a bossy teacher. He appreciated it. That was the strange part. Intimacy had developed: They were working more closely together, eating with her parents, and, more often, sharing inside jokes. Vegeta, however, still kept his distance. It had been that way for months, ever since they argued in his room, but Bulma didn't sense resentment from him, nor did she regret anything she said. His personality hadn't changed _that_ dramatically. His "pride" issues and egotism remained, but his responses to the world around him had become more nuanced.

More often, the prince would abruptly end their arguments about his work demands when Dr. Brief appeared. He'd grumble about it, for sure, but then said nothing further. He would leave Bulma and her father to their own devices, trusting that she heard enough to labor differently. Dr. Brief would nod respectfully at Vegeta before focusing on his daughter and their duties.

Lately, the Briefs noticed something unexpected from him: depression. Vegeta would never be Mr. Sunshine, but this was different from his usual ill-tempered behavior. He never spoke of it, naturally. He also didn't realize how they viewed him. With each passing day, despite how hard he trained, he was becoming more somber. Bulma rarely heard him rant about ascending to Super Saiyan. His anger almost seemed like it was transforming into resignation. That wasn't good, despite her mixed feelings about him being there generally. The dice had been rolled about where Vegeta stood. She and Dr. Brief hoped they wouldn't get snake eyes and lose the game.

It was the middle of the week, and Bulma's tiny manicured feet were planted firmly on her desk. The day had been long, and her father's scientific musings on the phone were trying her patience. He had been working from a remote lab in the mountains, and she would join him soon, but first she had to hand some work to employees. Their chat prevented her from accomplishing that goal, and she wanted to leave shortly for the swimming pool.

"Daddy, I'm not sure if this is the right thing to do. We're in the second year, so you know we don't have much time left. We should finish other tools to help the guys when they fight. They're still scattered everywhere for training, and Vegeta…"

"And Vegeta _what_?"

" _Eiyeeeee!_ "


	6. Game Over

**Appreciate your comments on the last chapters. I finished this new one to soothe my soul because I can't yet see the new DBS-DBZ English dubs. (Don't judge me.) You're pushing me, guys. Glad you are sticking with this. I wondered how hard it would be to weave the cat through V &B's dominant narrative**. **I'll try not to choke!**

* * *

Bulma screamed like a banshee, spilling coffee on her desk and area rug - her $5000 Zinni rug.

"For heaven's sake, don't do that! You scared the hell out of me, Vegeta."

He raised his eyebrow. "That is a lot of hell to scare, woman. You should always be prepared for war during times of peace... and your door was open."

Pleased with himself, Vegeta walked leisurely to recover Bulma's smartphone from underneath the office pool table. He ignored Dr. Brief's shouting from the other end, choosing instead to deliver a towel to wipe her coffee-drenched desk.

Bulma quickly snatched the device and shook her other fist at him. "Daddy! Don't worry. I just fell from my chair - had my feet on the desk. No broken bones. I'll call you later. Hugs and kisses. Okay, bye!"

By this time Vegeta had planted himself on a nearby leather sofa. He was wearing black shorts and a royal-blue T-shirt, and his legs were spread wide open, exposing a prominent bulge in the middle. Bulma didn't seem to notice. She was just relieved that he had bathed before sitting on her expensive furniture. He also smelled like cologne.

 _Cologne? Holy guacamole! No way._ Bulma inhaled the musky fragrance with meaning and purpose. _Never in a million years would this chest-beating, chauvinist throwback of a man wear cologne. My sinuses must be acting up, or maybe mom finally gave him new soap. Yeah, that must be it._

Then she slammed her phone down.

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Vegeta said. "I am practically family."

"Yeah, more like Freddie the freeloader."

Vegeta smirked at her. "Is this a relative you dislike?"

Vegeta's persistence could be strangely appealing when he wasn't complaining, especially when he really wanted something. He had learned through trial and error - lots of errors - how to push Bulma to the edge of her patience to get what he wanted. It was a powerful game of wits, or somewhat like blood sport without the gore. He rejoiced when he won without yielding his pride too much. Of course, Bulma had her own cunning defenses that could squash his goals instantly, driving his temper to the brink of brain hemorrhage. Worse, she had the audacity to laugh at her victories, always, knowing full well that he was a sore loser.

Vegeta remained sarcastic - no shock there - and Bulma liked that about him, up to a point. He wouldn't still be living at the Capsule estate if she didn't. She had convinced herself of that, at least, but her original reasons were more complicated. She invited Vegeta to keep him from causing more trouble. The shocks he experienced between his time on Namek and return to Earth stunned him into brooding submission. He also had nowhere else to go. Now, helping him gain _more_ strength seemed illogical, but all she could do was rely on hope, which was inherently unscientific. Whatever happened eventually between him and Goku would happen regardless. Her goal was to break through Vegeta's mental armor just enough to redirect the potential damage away from everyone around them.

By now she could tell from his sarcasm whether he was angry, annoyed, bored, amused, pleased - or aroused. She had seen flashes of that side, but not often, not since they first kissed the year prior. Sometimes she would catch him staring when she laughed heartily at others' jokes or when she described a technical issue he hadn't considered. But revisiting the path to the red-hot passion they shared that one day in the lab was sheer madness.

Lunacy.

"Okay, Vegeta. Your entertainment is over. I must finish here. Mom is cooking right now, so this should be a special night for your bottomless stomach. Take the hint and get out."

Vegeta clasped his hands and leaned forward. "Bulma, what are you and your father planning, and what is my role those plans?"

"You shouldn't have been listening." Bulma's back straightened. This wouldn't be pretty.

"Again, what are _you_ and _your father_ planning? Do not make me repeat myself. I am being well-mannered."

" _Oh no,_ partner." Bulma looked at him disdainfully. He had picked the wrong moment. She was going swimming - and maybe for a massage. He would not disrupt her relaxation. "I am having none of this from you today," she said. "Don't make me repeat _myself_ again."

 _She is making this harder on herself than necessary_ , Vegeta thought. _My request is not unreasonable. I started the disagreement - might as well have fun._

"Does it have anything to do with that two-month trip you took a while ago to the mountains, Bulma?" he said. "The one you lied about, calling it a vacation?"

Bulma lips pressed together. "You followed us?"

"Of course I did."

"That is creepy, Vegeta. You sound like a stalker."

"It may sound disturbing, but my greater concern was self-preservation. It should have been yours too."

"In what way? You saw our house there?"

"Yes, I did, and saw no playing there by anyone except your mother. No friends joined you, which is highly unusual for people as social as you and she. That is how I knew you were working. For safety reasons, perhaps you should consider another place for your lab. That one is not hidden adequately and…"

"And just _how long_ did you observe us?" She shouldn't have been surprised by his hypervigilance, but he always managed to stay one step ahead.

"Long enough," Vegeta replied. "After my first visit, when you arrived there, I followed up the next weekend. I had planned to return again, but by then you were leaving messages. I was feeling strangely then - and now we know why - so I put more effort into my training."

"Messages you never returned," Bulma retorted.

"You have cameras everywhere and adequate security to prevent intrusions, and you unwisely trusted others to watch me - including that strange old man in the bright clothes, who says he is a 'martial arts trainer.' What is his name again?"

Bulma was ready to punch him.

"Master Roshi," she said.

"He practically set up residence at your estate, consuming every bottle of wine in sight," Vegeta said. "I avoided him. He was not a troublesome drunkard, though. That was fortunate for him. Now, let us return to my first question."

"I'm leaving now." Bulma picked up her handbag, turning toward the door. Then, Vegeta sensed a change in her _ki_.

 _She is worried - very worried._

"What concerns you?" Vegeta moved in closer. "You are terrible at hiding anxiety. I certainly do not need protection from whatever is troubling you."

Bulma did not utter a word. She _was_ worried, but not just about the discussion with her father. She eyed Vegeta's chest, arms, lips, and the place between his thighs. He had stayed long enough to be an enticing distraction, and he damn well knew it.

"I could dangle you from the side of your mountain hideaway to force an answer." The pupils of Vegeta's eyes widened. "Would you prefer that?"

Bulma leaned against her desk. Her hands clutched the edges for dear life. " _Try_ me."

Game over.

Vegeta moved in as Bulma's hands grasped his hips to stroke the swollen place between his legs. She had given him permission to kiss her. He lifted her face with both hands, looking into her eyes, their lips touching lightly. She licked his top lip until his breath shook with anticipation of their impending union. Kissing slowly and deeply, they fell back on her desk, scattering accessories across the floor. Vegeta then pushed her mini-skirt up to her thighs. Bulma soon felt her bikini panties ripped to shreds by his teeth. At first Vegeta took great pleasure watching the pink folds between her legs throb, inviting his cock's penetration. He almost lost himself in them.

 _What an exquisite sight this is, but I am not ready._

This woman would scream for it, beg him for it - lose herself in it - but not until they took care of other business first. He then ran the tip of his finger across her clitoris, followed by his tongue.

Bulma gasped and seized his hair. " _Ahhh, ahaaah_. _"_ She pulled her legs up, planting her feet firmly on the desk. Vegeta smiled faintly, and then his face became deadly serious. This was mere child's play.

" _Hn._ " He thrust his tongue in farther. " _What are you willing to do for me, Bulma_?"

" _AAHH!_ "

 _"That is enough, woman! Be quiet. Now tell me, nice and slow, what you will do for me."_ Vegeta's head remained between Bulma's legs, but his commands weren't entering her ears.

He had penetrated her mind.

 _"Oh, Bulma, are you that easily aroused? Recall how easy it was for you to shout my name before. We did not even get this far. I wonder if I should continue. Now, I asked you a question! I will stop if you continue to make me wait_."

Bulma's breathing slowed. She would not be so effortlessly dominated. Without looking up, Vegeta caught her arm in midair as she tried to grab his shoulder. He would have been insulted by the reaction if he wasn't having so much fun.

" _Get out_ _of_ _my head, Vegeta - now_."

Laughing with an air of victory, Vegeta drew his tongue up to her breasts. " _Oh, come now. You don't want that._ "


	7. Distracted

**Here's a shout-out to the cool FF writers who inspired me to push out this chapter. Keep the comments coming, and thanks for reading as always.**

* * *

Bulma staggered around retrieving various articles of clothing and jewelry strewn throughout her office. Her formerly coiffed hairstyle now resembled a bale of lavender hay. Vegeta had left her a hot-ass mess. Then he had the nerve to leave her spread-eagled on her desk like a scarecrow, with her arms and legs draped over both sides. How would she explain to the manicurist about the artificial nails missing from ring finger and thumbs?

"That bastard!"

Self-conscious about her destroyed underwear, she walked out with her legs pressed tightly together. Her wobbling march to the main house should have prompted the estate's flock of wild ducks to follow behind. All she needed were brown feathers and webbed feet. It was getting late, and she tried to craft an appropriate excuse for not meeting Dr. Brief at the mountain lab. She wasn't motivated to go before Vegeta's intrusion and now even more so. She rarely lied to her father, and she didn't want to this time either.

She used her speakerphone without activating the video screen. Her father usually didn't care either way. "Hi, daddy. Yes, I know I'm late. I just can't come. I know, I know. I'm sorry. I got distracted and lost track of time. I'll be there bright and early tomorrow, okay? I'll bring leftovers from dinner too. I think mom will have a good dessert, too. I love you."

Her bedroom welcomed her. She flopped on her bed to remove the remainder of her clothing - and find a new pair of panties. Steam billowed from the bathroom shower, which she eagerly ran into. The pressure from the heated water felt so good that she leaned back against the tiles, letting it flow down her midsection and between her open legs. She began to stroking one of her breasts while touching the place where Vegeta skillfully sent her body into convulsions. She panted heavily as her hand moved faster, then slower, and then faster. It wasn't too long before she shivered. The sensation was nowhere the same, but it would get her through the next few hours. She could continue the self-gratification in her bed later that night.

 _"What are you willing to do for me, Bulma?"  
_  
The nerve of that egotistic man galled her. From day one it had been about Vegeta and his needs, and she had no one else to blame but herself. Now his desire to control her body had infected her psyche like a brain-eating amoeba. This wasn't a card game, and she refused to be his royal flush. Her father conceded to most of her choices out of pragmatism, scientific curiosity, and survival. He kept his eye on the prize, reminding Bulma almost daily of their primary mission to help the Z-fighters keep everyone else alive. The Briefs were to keep Vegeta around so they could stay out of harm's way in the not-too-distant future. It had become the older man's mantra.

The smell of food improved Bulma's emotional state once she arrived in their giant kitchen. She slouched into her seat at the stove-top island in the center of the room. She always liked watching her mother cook. Panchy usually had one giant glass of Sauvignon Blanc ready for her on these nights, too.

"Hey mom. If you don't mind, I'll take my food later to the lounge to watch a few movies, and where's the rest of the wine? I want another glass… or maybe three."

"But why, dear?" Panchy handed her the wine and poured a glass for herself. "Is something wrong? The dinner table will be too quiet without your father. I have feeling Vegeta will gobble everything I'm making and leave quickly if you're not around, and it's too late to invite my poker partners here for dinner."

"I don't think Vegeta's choice to eat with us occasionally has anything to do with me, mom."

"Oh come now, Bulma. You're being silly. That boy likes you. Haven't you noticed that he talks to you the most?"

"Mom, please. Don't do this with me. According to your standards, any man close to my age who stands upright, has a few muscles, and can string together more than two words is a potential boyfriend. Vegeta has the manners of a…"

"I have the manners of a prince, Bulma. You honor me with such a generous compliment."

Bulma cringed, but she didn't turn around. "You know, I am sick of you sneaking up on me like that, Vegeta. It's rude."

"I certainly do not have a lock-down on rudeness compared with others I have met here. I can think of one in particular."

"Calm down, you two crazy kids," Panchy said, waving him over to sit next to Bulma. "Disagreements before meals can cause stomachaches and gassiness later on."

Vegeta stayed where he was, watching Bulma's tongue circle the rim of her wine glass. Her involuntary movement confirmed what he needed to know about their afternoon rendezvous together. He had set her body on fire - or so he thought. His conceit prevented him from thinking otherwise. Sex would come soon enough, but he wanted to finish grooming her for it. Then he could have her anytime and anyplace he wanted, until he found another woman to play with. Some of her girlfriends were attractive as well.

Already feeling tipsy from her second bowl-sized glass of wine, Bulma's speech slurred somewhat. "I've never had that issue, mom. Vegeta, on the other hand, almost killed me one day in the lab with one of his poisonous farts. I don't know what he ate, but it smelled like something had crawled up inside of him and died."

"Bulma, darling, it is inappropriate to discuss bodily functions at the table."

"Mom, you started it!" She began to giggle. "I just followed up with real-life scientific commentary."

Vegeta's entire body darkened to a shade of crimson and violet, while a serpentine string of throbbing veins crisscrossed along his temples. " _How dare you!_ You, you, you… disrespectful, ill-mannered, vulgar little bitch! You know what I'm capable of, yet you continue to goad me!"

" _Who are you calling a bitch_ , _you little bitch_?" a voice thundered.

Bulma dropped her wine glass on her lap, while Vegeta's eyes widened to the size of serving bowls. Panchy twirled her knife like a sword master, driving it down into the wooden chopping block in front of her. Onion and garlic pieces sailed into the air, falling down like snowflakes.

"See here, you spiky-haired cretin, you are living in my house, eating my home-cooked food, and sleeping on my luxurious furniture. My husband and daughter have done nothing but cater to your endless demands and colossal ego since you got here. We even had our home steam-cleaned to keep you from choking to death from a cat allergy - a cat allergy! If you call Bulma out of her name like that ever again, I'll page my husband right now to blow every machine we have to pieces!

"Mommy! Stop! Please!"

"You think I'm nutty, Vegeta?" Panchy threw her head back and laughed maniacally. "He would kill us all rather than let you extort our family like a common street thug. Threaten me or anyone else on Earth all you want, but you will get nothing! You came here with nothing, and you will die here nothing! Now get the hell out of my kitchen!"

By this time Bulma had grabbed her mother's shoulders from behind as the tiny blonde-haired woman swayed from side to side. She pointed two crooked fingers as if she were cursing him to hell.

Vegeta threw his towel over his shoulder. " _Tch._ That woman should be locked up somewhere, Bulma. There is something seriously wrong with her. My suspicions were correct, it appears. I will find a meal elsewhere since it is clear that I am not welcome here for now. There are plenty of animals and plants to consume in the forest."

"That's a good idea, Vegeta." Bulma nodded at the door, signaling for him to leave. "Avoid the mushrooms outside. They can kill."

Bulma's evident embarrassment over Panchy's rant satisfied Vegeta's need for vindication. Yet he also felt some discomfort over his reaction and the language he used. Fighting back like that had never been a problem for him before. It also bothered him that he felt more than just insulted. For all of their heated arguments and insults and cursing at each other, not once had he ever thought Bulma could be so mean to him - but then again, she had witnessed some of his out-sized capacity for meanness to others who crossed him. She hadn't seen anything close the worst of it, though. He had an entire lifetime of the worst. He didn't have room to criticize anyone. Her jibe at him would never come close.

Bulma silently mouthed "get out now," which he found mildly amusing despite these intrusive thoughts. He winked his eye and licked his bottom lip. She relieved that her mother didn't see his little tease before he left. The enraged woman's eyes were now fixated on the chopping knife, further frightening her shocked daughter.

"Mommy!" Bulma snapped her fingers and shook her. "Mommy! Calm down!"

Panchy's head popped up. "What is it, dear?" Keeping her eyes on her mother, Bulma moved backward to grab the wine bottle from the fridge. After she began to guzzle from it, her mother snatched it from her grip and chugged.

Panchy wiped her face with an apron and handed the empty bottle back. "How many times have I told you about sharing? I taught you better than this, Bulma. Now are you _having dinner_ with me? Maybe there's time to invite one of my poker partners. I just don't know what I'm going to do with all this food."

"Um, yeah, I'll stay for dinner. Let me have the knife and I'll finish chopping. I'll grab another bottle of wine from the cellar, too."

Panchy smiled. "That's thoughtful of you, dear. I guess I was wrong about Vegeta. I apologize, sweetie. That was foolish of me. Perhaps you should reconsider Yamcha for a boyfriend again."

"Apology accepted, mother. I'm ignoring the rest."

The dinner was fantastic as usual. Panchy and Bulma left it to the bots to store the leftover food. Neither one of them was in good shape to do much else after the amount of alcohol they consumed together. Even her stupor, Bulma knew there would be hell to pay the following day if she didn't show up at the mountain lab. She would just have to pay then, because sleep and sobriety were more important. She felt entitled to a break before arguing again with her father about their plans.

She held herself up by leaning on the wall, sniffing and humming a song she couldn't remember the name of, but that was fine. The path to her room was dimmer than it should have been, and it was in the opposite direction from her parents' bedroom, but she would make it there. At least she was in a better mood than earlier. How much wine did she consume? The alcohol level must have been higher. No, how could she have forgotten about those sinus pills she took! Damn it. Her room seemed farther away than normal. How stupid. So sleepy. Her body leaned heavily against the wall until a sudden rush of warmth swallowed her. She soon felt light, as if she were floating in the air. Yet she also sensed sturdy support under her legs, making her felt protected as if she were still in her mother's womb.

So sleepy.

So sleepy.

The next morning she woke fully dressed and underneath the comforter on her bed. Her shoes had been removed. The bedroom window had been partially opened, which brought in fresh air, but the drapes were pulled closed enough to block high-intensity sunlight from streaming in. A giant pitcher of water had been left on her nightstand. She didn't fully remember how she arrived, and she certainly didn't recall taking off her shoes. She fell back to sleep, pulling the comforter over her head and sinking into her pillows. There would be hell to pay.

A shadow crossed beneath her door. Footsteps from the outside grew softer until they couldn't be recognized or heard anymore.


	8. Shock

**I love Bulma's ability to be vulnerable *and* tough. She always finds something inside of her to keep going.**

* * *

Bulma didn't wake again until around noon. The inside of her mouth tasted like a fuzzy, slimy sponge. Her head hurt, which she expected, but it wasn't that bad. She would've slept longer had she not felt something licking her fingers. Tama was curled in a ball, flicking her tail.

"You were under my bed last night, weren't you?" Bulma cuddled next to her. "You must know how I got here, Tama. You see everything."

The cat stretched her neck so Bulma could scratch her chin. Tama wasn't interested in her mistress's questions. This was their special time together - one that they didn't have the night before because of the man. She hissed cautiously when he entered the bedroom carrying Bulma, which he ignored, but she settled down after sensing no aggression from him. Bulma appeared relaxed as the man silently tended to her. Before leaving, he stroked her hair a few times and sighed. Then he looked at Tama. By now the cat was sitting on the nightstand.

He rubbed his eyes and coughed a bit. "I still hate you, but I see why she enjoys your company," he said.

The man checked on Bulma again later that morning, too. He seemed content after seeing Tama by her side - at least that's what the cat sensed - and shut the door. Tama then returned to sleep, but the memory stayed with her until she decided Bulma needed to awaken. Finger-licking was often effective. They both had jobs to do that day.

Bulma checked the time after holding the cat in her arms a while longer. She had to face her father, so she drank some water and prepared to call him. He rarely left messages when angry. It was past midday, so he must have been livid. She decided to use the video screen this time. Maybe he would feel sorry for her after seeing her. She didn't get this drunk often, so he might not be hard on her - especially since he had moments like this too.

Dr. Brief lit a cigarette. "Why are you calling me now, Bulma? I should probably return home since you obviously don't want to be here, and you look terrible. What were you doing?"

"Mom and I had too much to drink last night. We were having a little fun and went too far, I guess - and I needed a break. That's all."

"You think that's a proper excuse?" He leaned into the screen. "Weren't you the one who said we're pressed for time?"

"Yes, father, but I meant with other projects. This one is too unstable, and even if we finished I would want Goku to use it."

"Well that's unfair." Dr. Brief turned to blow smoke in the air. "Vegeta is the best candidate. He's been with us and deserves a chance. You see he's losing motivation, and that can't happen. It's unsafe for all of us. Besides, he would be furious if our work went to someone he despises."

Bulma massaged her temples. His scolding made her head hurt worse. "He doesn't hate Goku. I realize this now. At this point he just wants to be stronger than him."

"And you are delusional, Bulma. Vegeta hates him - which I don't really care about. You have several jobs to finish, young lady. The robot assistants are ready on site, and he will travel with you."

" _What?!_ "

"I asked him to come, sweetheart. That should give you an incentive to get here faster."

"But, but daddy!"

"Pack your bags and get dressed, young lady. Now!"

"I can't believe he just hung up on me." Bulma sullenly threw pillows everywhere. Tama, who wanted more attention, kneaded on her legs until her frustrated mistress picked her up.

"I guess I can't pout forever, kitty. I _am not_ looking forward to this. Maybe that jerk will decide to fly there alone. Perhaps he already is. I might take you with me this time for protection."

She looked everywhere for Vegeta. He had to be around somewhere. She felt it. Maybe he was purposely hiding from her. It's not like she wanted him coming to the lab anyway. He would likely continue annoying her about the work and why they were finally going there. Maybe he would keep his mouth shut this time because she embarrassed him the night before. She felt a pang of guilt, especially after realizing that he helped her to bed safely.

He _had_ called her a bitch, though, but that didn't upset her. It wasn't the first time anyone said it, nor would it be the last. Hell, Vegeta learned the uniquely human word _from_ _her_. She wore it as a badge of honor for being a bad ass woman.

"Mom, have you seen Vegeta?"

"Lower your voice, please." Panchy held a bag of ice to her head. "How the hell should I know where the half-pint prince is? It's not like I cooked this morning, but I see he devoured most of our leftovers. I guess those furry woodland creatures and mountain berries didn't satisfy his appetite."

"You should probably return to bed, mom. I think you're still a bit drunk."

Panchy winced. "I'm not the only one, dear. Drink more water. You have dark circles under your eyes."

"Goodbye, mother."

Bulma felt like she was running in circles. _He's not in the gravity room. He's not in the training area. He hasn't returned my calls. I am done with this crap. If his majesty doesn't show up in ten minutes, I'm leaving._

She threw down a capsule to unpack her hover plane on the estate's runway. Tama would go with her this time. Being in a cat carrier wasn't the animal's preferred way to travel.

"Meoooowww."

"I know, sweetie." Bulma poked her fingers into the cage. "I'm sorry. We've done this before. You'll be fine."

" _You are wasting time, woman,_ " Vegeta said from behind the plane. "Shall we leave, or does your beast need soft music too? She is deceiving you." _  
_  
Angry, Bulma slowly stood up. "Make that _the last time_ you sneak up on me, Vegeta, or else I might do what mother threatened last night. Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Actually, I hoped you left already."

"I bet you did." Vegeta threw his bag and hers past the cockpit.

Grumbling, Bulma slammed the door. "Put on your seatbelt."

"For what?" Vegeta rubbed his eyes and sneered. "We are not in deep space. Besides, restraining myself would stop me from poisoning you with my stomach gas. The stench might help you fly faster."

"Oh for fuck's sake, man." Bulma gripped the side-stick control. "Must it be like this the entire trip there? You could easily fly without me."

Vegeta drew his palm down the center of his face. "Trust me, I would love it, but your father asked me to be here!"

"Since when did you care what daddy politely asks of you?

"I would not care usually, but maintaining your safety gets me what I want." He grabbed a water bottle. "You crashing into a mountain because of any leftover drunkenness would delay that goal. How many times are we having this talk, Bulma? Are you not tired of it by now?"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

###

It was two hours into their flight and Bulma hoped Vegeta would be sleeping. Most people did when they weren't the pilot, and Vegeta had never flown with her before. Instead he stayed wide awake - to her annoyance. He also seemed uncomfortable, and he kept clearing his throat. Bulma figured he had been screaming at the pigeons outside again. They liked to poo on him now, same as other birds, but he was under strict orders not to kill animals roaming the estate. Whatever he did in the deep woods, the Briefs didn't want to know - but they stopped letting Tama wander far from them.

"One more fucking hour of this," Bulma said under her breath. "If only I weren't sharing so much airspace today."

Vegeta stared out the window. "Perhaps your father should sell fewer airplane capsules."

Bulma finally decided to be the better person and call a truce. They both needed to calm themselves, and she had to navigate the plane properly.

"You know, Vegeta, thank you for helping get to my room last night. I must have been really drunk."

" _Tch._ That is an understatement. You looked foolish lying against the wall. You were practically drooling. Remember what I said before about my goal?"

"Look, it's not just _your_ goal," Bulma said quietly. "We're invested in our livelihoods here too."

"Yes, I know - _those scary, scary androids_." He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. "I am almost insulted that you do not fear me more."

Bulma looked over at him. "Are you okay? You are rubbing your eyes constantly and drinking a lot of water. Is it hot? I can adjust the climate control."

"I am fine," he growled. "I need to get up. Where is the rest of the water?"

Bulma continued watching him closely. "You know where it is, silly - the mini-cargo hold in the back."

He looked around. "And where… is Tama?"

 _Something isn't right. He knows where her cage is. He put her there._

"You rarely call my cat by her name." Bulma adjusted the controls and unfastened her seatbelt. "The plane is on autopilot. What's wrong?"

Vegeta began sneezing and coughing, and then his face started swelling. He was losing his breath.

Bulma leapt from the cockpit to grab her medical case. _His treatment is wearing off! How could this happen?_

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" She jammed a needle in his thigh. "Had you stopped your therapy? You're certifiably crazy for flying with me!"

She knew Vegeta couldn't answer immediately, but seeing him so pale and shaky scared the hell out her. She had a flashback about his injuries from before.

 _He should be tougher than this. He is stronger than this. The man has been shot through the chest, drowned, and thrown into boulders. Saiyans are more powerful each time they get hurt. What in the world is happening?_

Vegeta loosened his shirt and exhaled. "Of course I did not stop therapy. I told your father as soon as I noticed small problems. He says I am having some kind of rebound effect. I cannot let it get my way. Your doctor provided stronger prophylaxis until he reworks my treatment. I have managed well."

"Okay, you can shut up now," Bulma took his hand in hers. "You should be damned glad I had this epinephrine pen. You were going into shock, you idiot. The air is recycled in here - you know that. Now we have to keep injecting you with medicine until we land on the mountain. We don't have much longer."

"Stop fretting," he said, pushing her arm away. "What you see now has happened within less than twenty-four hours. It is ridiculous. I still have the ability to fight…"

Bulma restrained herself from smacking his face. "You can shut up again. Amazing. You were well enough to play hide-and-seek with my panties yesterday when what you really needed was a cold shower."

Vegeta grinned - just a little.

Bulma was beyond angry, seething was more like it, after they arrived. Once she got Vegeta squared away - which he complained about, of course - she stormed over to her father's lab.

 _Daddy is going to hear a mouthful about this._

She threw a beaker on the floor, spreading glass everywhere. "Damn it, daddy! He could have died!" She broke another beaker. "You could have told me!"

Dr. Brief calmly looked at her. "You _will_ clean that up. Vegeta would've said something if he thought you should know. You shouldn't be surprised that he didn't. He'll be fine regardless. I had no idea you would bring our cat."

"Well, we can't keep Tama locked in a cage for a month!"

"We're not. You're taking her home."

Bulma stared at him like he was crazy. "What do you mean?"

"Do I look like I'm joking, young lady? _Take her home now!_ "

"What is wrong with you, daddy? I am sick and tired of you yelling at me."

"And I am tired of you losing focus, Bulma. You know Tama can't stay here, and I need Vegeta well and working. That's why I had him come. I knew this problem would hit him hard. It was a matter of time, and it's not just our cat causing these reactions now. However, his new treatment is almost done. It should solve all of this completely within weeks. And keep in mind that he could die _anyway,_ just like the rest of us. You heard what that boy from the future said."

Bulma kept her head down while she swept the broken glass. Her father had hurt her feelings.

"You also want to tell him about the other stuff."

"Yes, sweetheart, I will tell him." Dr. Brief opened the trash can. "You know why? Because he will pester you about finishing until he get what he wants - and what I want. Now leave after you finish cleaning. It's early enough to fly back here, but you should stay home to remember what you are - a rational, detached, brilliant scientist. See you in the morning, and please try to stay sober."


	9. You Know Why You're Here

**Writing these last two chapters has been a mind-bending experience. While the "gap" theme has been explored by others in infinite ways, in my mind Bulma can show vulnerability and mixed feelings and care for Vegeta without completely compromising who she is at her core. It can't be reduced to solely to "How is she falling for this crap?". She makes mistakes and so does Vegeta - who makes more of them because, well, he's Vegeta! That said, I weaved in a bit of "Scandal" into their interactions - for those of you tracking the romantic relationships on that show. I just couldn't help myself. These two are like moths to a flame with each other.**

* * *

Bulma tried to hold back tears. "I can't believe my father just called me irrational. The nerve of him! Maybe he's been around Vegeta or Master Roshi too long. I've never heard him sound so sexist. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure Vegeta has ever said something that bad. He's equally grouchy with men and women. What the hell am I saying? Of course he has. I can't keep up anymore!"

She decided not to see Vegeta before leaving the mountain. He needed his rest, but it wouldn't take long for him to return to work. She left stronger sets of body suits there for him. He would need them to train with the advanced equipment. It was better this way. He would've been grumpy with her about surprising him instead of telling him early what she had done.

She forced herself to imagine Vegeta and her friends dying brutally, one by one, each time she became annoyed or tired. Those thoughts kept her working hard, but they were also taking a toll on her. Sometimes at night she woke up sweating and crying when those thoughts spoiled her dreams. Her father was so wrong about her. She hadn't lost focus. Failure was not an option.

Dr. Brief strolled down the hall to Vegeta's room. He hoped the prince's mood would improve after moving upstairs to the living quarters for recovery. The less confined Vegeta felt the better, the doctor thought, even though the man would be full of drugs until he completed his treatment.

"You're looking better, son."

Vegeta looked over at him sleepily. "Brief, if feeling better means I can breathe without having holes drilled in my throat and chest, then yes, I am just wonderful."

"It will take a while to return to normal strength, Vegeta - or in your case, outrageously abnormal strength."

"Your joke is not amusing, _and how long is_ _a while_?"

"You are so bullheaded." Dr. Brief handed him water. "I'll explain in simple language. You are at risk for a stronger reaction now that you've had this episode - which means death could happen within minutes, not thirty minutes. Did I mention dying fast?"

"My hearing is fine. You may continue."

"Furthermore, you are at risk to relapse for at least a week. Vigorous exercise can be a trigger, which is probably what happened with you before."

Vegeta pounded his fist on the bed. "Well what do you expect me to do this week? Plant flowers and paint pretty pictures? This is unacceptable, and you fully are aware of this. You did not bring me here to sit on my hands!"

"Son, you do realize that I have to sacrifice my delightful smoking habit while you're here. If you think we hate each other now, just wait."

"Why is this happening?" Vegeta breathed heavily and closed his eyes. "This of all things _should not_ be happening. How many more humiliations must I endure on this miserable planet?"

Dr. Brief leaned on the door. "You will keep suffering from them until you learn to accept and move on, Vegeta. Don't worry, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. You'll be fine after getting the new treatment. You have my word. Also, my talented daughter left new training gear for you."

"She did?" Vegeta looked up at him. "Is she still around?"

"No. For right now you should concentrate on regaining strength. Bulma will return to work tomorrow. The house is equipped with the recordings you listen to sometimes if you need distraction."

Bulma returned the following day with a large box of her father's favorite snacks. It was her way of making amends. She still planned to say that his comments had been condescending and hurtful. The discussion would end there so they could be partners again.

Vegeta saw them embrace inside the lab. He had planned to barge in before realizing she was there. He had never seen her cry before. Dr. Brief, who noticed him there, used the remote control on his watch to unlock the door.

"Come in, Vegeta. Bulma and I were just discussing next steps."

Bulma quickly wiped her face and walked past them. She wanted to kill her father for letting crown prince pain-in-the-ass see her like that.

"Where are you going?" Vegeta asked.

"I have things to do."

"Oh."

"She is quite busy today," Dr. Brief said, observing their reactions. "I will check on your progress later, sweetheart. Thank you for the treats. Maybe I will share some with our patient over here."

Bulma left without saying anything else to either of them.

Vegeta leaned on a nearby chair and exhaled. "I am not a patient, and I have lost my patience. My training begins now."

"I won't stand in your way." Dr. Brief popped a piece of gum in his mouth and smiled. "Get your new suit on, my boy."

It took five hours before Vegeta passed out from the effects of exercising and drugs on his coordination. The achievement was quite impressive, although the prince was highly disappointed that he couldn't last longer. Dr. Brief kept a careful eye on his movements and lung function, and he made sure a medical staffer was close by. He also kept the gravity level lower than normal - and he lied to Vegeta about it. The two men knew it was unlikely that Vegeta could match this level of exertion again until his treatment was completed. Proving a point came with a cost.

Bulma sat next to Vegeta quietly in the recovery room later that day when he regained consciousness. He knew she was deeply angry with him, but his eyes blazed with defiance. He was a risk-taker, and so was she. How she couldn't understand that pissed him off, especially now. They had spent far too much time together working their backsides off. His fighting spirit had been sinking, and now Dr. Brief was offering him another way out. For Bulma, it had become too stressful dealing with Vegeta's and her father's enormous egos. She slammed the door on her way out after adjusting his oxygen mask. Then she put on her coveralls and returned to work.

Dr. Brief entered the machine room that night after Bulma didn't show up for dinner. She moved from underneath the robotic device she was working on and lifted her welding mask. Her face showed a mix of rage and disappointment.

"What do you want, daddy?"

Dr. Brief bent down next to her. "It's getting late, honey - really late. You haven't eaten anything."

"I grabbed some food after seeing _your_ patient."

"Look, I'm sorry. I know you're angry."

Bulma pulled down her mask. "Spare me the apology. You and Vegeta deserve each other. Good night. As you said, I have lots of work to do."

"I will continue saying that, but one of those jobs _isn't_ falling in love with him, Bulma. He will never choose you first - ever. Hear me on this."

Bulma sighed. "You don't even realize what you're doing. Stop trying to protect me from him. Stop standing in the way of me feeling _anything_ for _anyone._ I know _who_ he is and _what_ he is - and you have some nerve to preach at me. It was your brilliant idea to isolate us here, on this mountain, to work on top of each other!"

"Here's the difference between you two now." Dr. Brief picked up her welding torch. "Vegeta doesn't fear death. You fear for his life."

"Okay, daddy, here's my sermon for today. It's not your place to push him as close as possible to death just because he doesn't fear it. You are not a god, and you're being a hypocrite."

"I'm not a hypocrite, Bulma. That's the beauty of it, and this is what Vegeta wants! You know this! He gets stronger each time he's pushed to the brink. Your attachment, or whatever it is, endangers his well-being and ours."

"But he was sick this time, daddy, not wounded!" Bulma covered her mouth to stop herself from crying. "He is… still sick, and you've been cruel. Just leave me alone. You've kept me from my work long enough."

Dr. Brief patted her arm and stood. "Good night, my darling." He really needed a cigarette - a sweet-tasting, long-lasting, lung-blackening cigarette.

 _She truly is in love with the man. My daughter has lost sight of what cruelty means anymore, especially with him. He's lucky that I don't shut off his oxygen._

###

Bulma didn't speak with her father or Vegeta much for the next two weeks. Discussions were entirely work-related, and their living space was large enough for them not to see each other most days. For his part, Vegeta wasn't that talkative either, but more so out frustration. He couldn't do much of what he wanted while finishing his final rounds of immunotherapy, but he did observe and plan for when he could.

These days, Bulma jogged in the forest to keep her sanity. Their work would now stretch into two months, which she expected, but it was becoming harder for all of them to remain patient. She thought about going home for a while, but doing so would guarantee that she wouldn't return the mountain. Luckily, her mother had found other ways to enjoy herself at the estate.

One weekend she had run for about a mile before resting on a tree stump. She was unhappy that she didn't beat her timer. She would try again once more.

"I do not see how your self-imposed muteness will last much longer," Vegeta called out to her. "The silence must be killing you."

"I can deal."

"I am not sure about that. Your father seems more displeased by it."

Bulma bent over to tie her shoes. "Look, Vegeta, running is the one time daily that I don't think about _work_. You and my father are _work_. Dealing with your endless male pissing contests is _work_. Talking with you these last few minutes is _work_. Now leave me alone."

"So working is a burden for you now, or is it just me?"

"I cannot believe you!" Bulma shook her head in disbelief. "You are getting everything you want - everything - and you're _still_ seeking more validation? Well I can't help you there. I'm tired."

"You are wrong," he replied. "I do not have everything I want yet."

"Sorry for you, buddy." Bulma looked at her watch. "Gotta go now. It's cloudy and I still need to finish running."

Vegeta grabbed her arm, pulling her in for a kiss. Bulma rested her forehead against his chin. He quickly moved his hand into her shorts and touched her perfectly. She placed her arms on his shoulders, panting. He chuckled as he partially pulled down her shorts, followed by his. Then he moved her hand over to stroke him. It didn't take him long to get hard after watching her submit to his advances.

" _Hn._ Does this help relieve your stress now? See, am I so bad?"

His smart mouth had finally tripped Bulma's trigger. She had enough of it.

She backed away and threw a fistful of dirt and branches at him. "Get _away_ from me, Vegeta. How _dare_ you. Is this all you know how to do? I have not bothered you once since we got here. _That, my friend, is showing respect_. Now return the courtesy and leave me to my own devices."

"If that is what you want."

"What I want is for you to pull your giant head out of your butt."

Vegeta eyes flashed angrily. "I am not staying here to listen to this!"

"Oh, wow!" Bulma paced around him like an enraged tigress. "Why not, Vegeta? You can dish this crap out but can't take it yourself? Perhaps you would get what you want if you stopped trying to conquer me. You've shown with your arrogance that I'm attracted to you, so why not make it official? That's all you want, isn't it? _Isn't it?!_

"Oh god!" She slapped her forehead. "From _the first day_ I lusted after you, but I offered proper reasons for why we couldn't go further. Of course I did! But I ignored my better judgment _each time_ you touched me. The funny thing is after all of this drama, I see our encounters differently. Sure, your desire to conquer is in your nature - I'll give you that- but ask yourself why I'm your coveted prize. Are you lonely? Are you bored? Are you so attached to me that you can't help yourself? I ask these questions each time I consider having sex with you. My conclusion is you're playing with your own emotions as much as mine. My question is why? _Can you answer that for yourself?_ "

Vegeta glared at her. Then he turned his back. Bulma ran around in front with her arms spread wide, blocking his path.

"Go home, Bulma."

"No, sir! Not today. _You sought me out, so you will hear me out_. I could certainly help you find other women to satisfy your appetites. There are attractive ladies all over West City who would gladly want you, and they won't ask questions. They could be your paramours doing whatever you want, whenever you want - but right now you are standing _here_ with _me_. Can you explain that? Now here's another thought: If we fully act on our desires, you might even be disappointed. I may be too. What will you do then?"

"So you consider yourself my prize." Vegeta crossed his arms and huffed. "You do think highly of yourself."

"Always have." Bulma fastened her jacket and walked past him, but not before throwing more dirt in his direction. "That won't change, and I am not ashamed about anything that happened between us. I smell rain, so now I'm leaving. Do yourself a favor and stay the hell away from me."

Vegeta clutched her arm. "You want to know why, Bulma?"

"Are you ready to tell me?"

"I have no other way of being. I am exactly the person you know me to be. You told me some time ago that I was not of this world in mind or spirit. You were right. I have toyed with you because I could."

"Damn it, you are such a terrible liar." Bulma tied her hair back in a knot. "Well, you did tell the truth about toying with me, I guess. I wonder about the rest of it now, despite of what I said a long time ago."

" _What do you want from me?!_ " Vegeta seized her shoulders. "Maybe I pursue you because you talk with me. Maybe I pursue because you are not afraid of me, at least not anymore, and you challenge me. You are the most intelligent and beautiful woman I have ever met, and I cannot stop thinking of you. And I hate myself for it. This is not who I am or what I envisioned for myself. You are just as bad for me as I am for you."

Thunder rumbled around them. Vegeta threw his arms up as birds scattered from the trees. "See there?" He pointed upward. "You hear that? What perfect timing. Listen to the skies! You broke past my armor. You saw into my mind. _Well there it is, woman. Are you satisfied now?_ "

Bulma threw branch pieces on the ground each time Vegeta paused. He lifted his head skyward again. This time he couldn't look at her because of shame, and Bulma realized this. He wanted to be left alone, so she did.

"I'm returning home." She switched on her flashlight and walked a good distance before turning around. "Would you believe me if I said I understand, Vegeta?" She yelled until her voice became a whisper. "I understand. I'm sorry it had to be this way."

Vegeta listened closely as the leaves and branches cracked under her feet. He wanted to hear every single step. Then he decided to fly overhead. She would be safe under his watch that night. He just didn't know how long she would be safe with him. He felt like the mountain had landed on his chest, and it was hard to breathe. Tiny drops of rain fell on his face.

Bulma poured a small glass of wine when she returned to the house. She was glad to be back before the big rainstorm hit. Even better, she was satisfied with what she told Vegeta. Now she was having trouble deciding whether to listen to the rain from her balcony or read a book in bed. She briefly considered finding her father to talk, but he was probably sleeping.

She had been nodding off until she heard soft tapping outside of her room. Dr. Brief tended to be extremely polite when he approached his daughter's bedroom at night, so she assumed really needed something. She opened the door and gasped. There Vegeta stood, drenched from the rain, with his head down. Bulma stared for a minute and then brought him into her arms. She held him until his breathing slowed.

"Hey, it's okay," she whispered. "Let's get you dried off. You are soaked."

"I… do not know why I am here. I should not be here."

"You do know why, Vegeta. You just told me in the woods."

He continued staring down. He didn't want to look into her eyes. Not now. Not like before. Then she would see everything. Everything was different now.

She lifted his chin and kissed him.

"Listen to me. You do know why you're here."


	10. Hunger and Addiction

Bulma closed the door.

"Are you still angry?"

"No." She took Vegeta's hand. "I told you what I thought. I am not some tragic damsel in distress, you know. No matter what we do, we both have a choice. Every interaction between us has resulted from our choices. And if you remember, you once said that to me during one of our arguments."

Vegeta moved strands of hair from her face. She looked over his shoulder and activated two switches on the wall.

"Wait a minute, Vegeta."

"What are those?"

She put her finger on his lips to shush him. "One switch seals the door cracks. The other masks all sound in the room. No one can hear us from the outside. I have the same setup at the main house."

Vegeta raised his eyebrow. Her ingenuity never failed to impress him, even though he didn't express it often. "You think of everything. I could ask why you installed them, but I believe I already have my answer." He stopped and held her from behind. "Just let me explore you."

He cupped her breasts, drawing his fingertips across her nipples and moving them down the contours of her waist and hips. Their hands interlaced as he kissed her neck. Her head fell forward, allowing him to continue until his tongue landed right beneath her ear. He gently nipped her lobe. She sighed and pushed back against him, shifting her hips until she heard him pant just a little - just a little. Neither one of them wanted to move fast.

Bulma's hips continued their climb across his midsection. Closing his eyes, Vegeta's body followed her gyrations. She pushed back more until his increasing hardness sent tiny shock waves throughout her body.

" _You like that, don't you_?" She moaned the words quietly but just loud enough to further stoke his appetite for her.

Vegeta loved how her gauzy negligee felt on his fingers. _"Please continue_." His hands traced her backside, rubbing and stroking until he smacked it.  
Rumbling, penetrating laughter emerged from deep inside of him.

Bulma bent over, grasping her ankles with her hands. " _Do it again."_

Smack!

" _Again. Harder."_

Smack!

" _Harder, I said! I know you're strong enough._ "

Vegeta was thrilled by her demands but also surprised - and somewhat hesitant. He didn't want to hurt her by acting out the full extent of his excitement just yet. She was still a tiny-framed woman. He had other females before, some of whom were almost as physically strong as he. These vixens destroyed everything around them when they fucked. Oh, but Bulma did feel good. She felt right with him, like none other.

How in the world did he get here? Bulma was right that he could have any woman he wanted and do all sorts of devilish things with them, but this was exceptional - all because of her. Everything in his mind before had turned on inside out.

 _What will you do for me?_

He was too busy being in control the last time when he uttered those words. It was a terrible thing to do, and he was capable of it again. He had played with her to mask his own mixed feelings about being on Earth, which weren't conflicted before he met her. He had once been on a sworn mission. The mission would continue, but now these _feelings_ were clouding the pursuit. They were more than lust - that had been established now - but did he have the ability to find balance? Nothing about his personality and outlook on life had ever been balanced. He never expected that this was an option.

"Is everything okay, Vegeta?"

He breathed in. " _Yes!_ " He pulled Bulma around and into his chest, removing her nightgown. She drew him in for a longer kiss. They laughed softly as her fingers touched his chin. His tongue traced the curvature of her lips. He did it again until she bit him. She tasted like candy.

"Your taste is sweet."

"It wasn't before?"

"It is always an argument with you, woman."

"Look who's talking? Now be quiet, Vegeta."

"Gladly."

He lifted her atop a nearby dresser chest, holding her body underneath. She wrapped her legs around him and leaned back on her arms. His thrusts began carefully. Her contractions against his cock increased with each upsurge of his movements. His head fell down slightly they panted together rhythmically.

Bulma raised her head. " _Look at me."_ Vegeta leaned further into her body until she couldn't speak.

" _You are so beautiful._ " His pace quickened. He moved his body upward to increase the pressure. He didn't want to come yet, nor did Bulma want to, so they moved from the dresser. They kissed all the way to her bed, standing on their knees in the middle until they slowly moved down. He positioned her legs on his shoulders to enter her. She bit her lips, relishing the pressure of his body on hers. He was so hard, and she felt every inch. She grabbed the bed sheets while he pushed upward. She had never felt anything like it before.

" _Oh, godddd!_ "

Her exclamation inspired Vegeta to slow down. He pulled out to move his cock against her clit soothingly. He enjoyed hearing each staccato breath from her as much as she enjoyed the pleasure he provided.

By this time Bulma had her hands on his sides, signaling for him to continue. He breathed harder watching her mouth open wider with each thrust. Then an electric sensation shot through his body, compelling him drive harder. His head moved to the side as his hunger increased. He _couldn't_ stop. Bulma's fist bore down on the bed like a hammer. Her tightening around his cock was hypnotic. His body began to sway from the sensation.

Bulma's eyes flew open. " _Don't you stop on me, Vegeta!"_ She slapped him. _"That's right!_ _Ahhhh!_ _Yes!_ _Oh god, yes! That's right!_ " Her fists crashed onto the bed again until she finally belted out a yowl and jolted. Vegeta kept going as she screamed. It had been like this for what seemed like hours.

Then he felt it. He could barely hold himself in anymore. His body shook hard while she climaxed. " _Ah… ha… hah… ha_. _Ahhhhhhh! UGNNNH!"_

He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't shout her name. No, he couldn't give in yet.

Until he did.

###

Ironically, Bulma slept like a rock while Vegeta stared at the ceiling through the next morning. He kicked her leg. No way would she get away with that. Both of them should've slept. He had fun too.

 _Why does she get to rest for hours?_

He kicked her leg again.

Bulma burrowed into her pillows. "Vegeta, I swear, if you kick me _one more time_ , I will bring my cat here tomorrow to nest on my bed sheets… and yours. We'll see how that treatment works out for you."

He kissed the center of her back. "So that means I can return tomorrow if I stop kicking you?"

Laughing, Bulma flipped around and slapped his shoulder. "Get out."

He frowned. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Fine." He left the bed. "Let me out of this sealed crypt of yours."

Bulma pulled the sheets over her chest. "You really should rethink leaving my room in a huff, especially after what we did together last night."

"You just told me to get out, Bulma. I did not hear 'Stay with me' or 'Can we do this again?' How am I supposed to be joyful about that? I barely understood what joyful meant until you tried explaining it to me."

Bulma threw a pillow at him. "Yeah, I remember that day. As I recall you said, 'Is it the way I felt when I killed the Ginyu Force?' First, stop taking all of my comments so literally. Apparently you also overlooked that I was laughing just now, so stop being a spoiled brat. My bedroom is a child-free zone. Besides, it's early and you have training this morning, remember? My father may be searching for you."

"I know."

"Well then get out." Bulma pulled the covers over her shoulders. "You know where the door switches are."

"Woman, I will be damned if you get to sleep more today when I can't." He threw the pillow back at her. "I was awake all night."

Bulma caught the pillow and yawned. "Not my problem. Bye, prince whine-a-lot. I'm sleeping later on weekends from now on - my lab, my rules."

"Oh really?" Vegeta snatched the sheets from the bed, flipping her flat on her back.

"Have you lost your mind, Vegeta?!"

He was already inside of her body before she could respond further. Moaning softly, Bulma arched into his powerful thrust. Vegeta bit her shoulder with the edge of his teeth and pushed deeper. Her eyelids fluttered and finally closed. His second bite rendered her voiceless.

"Now, that's more like it," he said as Bulma's nails raked across his back. " _We are a team_ , and since when I have ever been in my right mind?"

Vegeta was long overdue for starting his regimen after their morning sexual escapade ended. He wouldn't explain himself to Dr. Brief, who was likely busying himself with another scientific hobby. He felt confident about making up for lost time anyway. Meanwhile, Bulma had fallen into another deep sleep. He would've stayed with her all day in bed to quell the darkness stirring inside of him, calling to him like a siren's song. He had a debt to pay, an offering to the deadly nightshade that fueled his determination and desire to reclaim his honor at whatever cost. He was an addict. He would do everything he could to feed his habit - to avoid the searing pain of withdrawal.

He looked down at Bulma and decided against waking her again. "You are incredible," he whispered.

Dr. Brief had been sipping coffee at the elevated observation window overlooking the redesigned training room. He turned on an intercom. The lights activated when Vegeta entered. Tracking his movements, the fighter drones locked into their positions while infrared beams crisscrossed the space. Vegeta's eyes scanned the room with excitement. The challenge felt invigorating, although not as much as fighting a worthy opponent. Bulma and her father had outdone themselves. Retrofitting the structure inside the space ship he would travel in later would be the final step.

"Did you have a good breakfast?" Dr. Brief asked. "It must have been delicious considering how late you are. Also, have you seen my daughter?"

 _I saw her in more ways than one_ , Vegeta thought to himself.

"I did not see Bulma during breakfast. Perhaps she had food brought to her room by the robots."

"Or she could be sleeping late again." Dr. Brief said, scratching his chin. "Can you wait about forty-five minutes? That should be enough time for her to arrive with a fresh mind after I contact her, I think."

"No," Vegeta replied. He put on his gloves. "We begin now. I have waited long enough, and so have you. You cannot fool me about that, Brief."

"All right then. Your protective clothing still suits you?"

"Yes," Vegeta said with growing impatience.

"Let's get started." The doors locked. Dr. Brief left the observation room to have a cigarette.

Vegeta snickered. "Indeed."

By the time Bulma arrived, Vegeta was on his sixth consecutive round of fight sequences, with each applying more gravity to his workout. His improvement exceeded her and Dr. Brief's expectations, but not his. Before this moment, even though he risked relapse, he managed to keep a baseline for body conditioning during his treatment. That turned out to be the best option despite his first failed training effort after he had been ill.

"My god, look at his footwork," Bulma said to her father. "It's like he had a blueprint in his mind for this."

"Yes, sweetheart, it is extraordinary." Dr. Brief put his arm around her shoulder. "He is back to normal, it appears. Great work on the setup."

Bulma activated a 3-D screen of Vegeta's body. "Trust me, dad, he would disagree with you on being back to normal, and I would probably support him."

"Why is that?"

"Look closer. See there? He's taken some small hits. I know he noticed, even though the drone sensors aren't firing intense heat at him. He's also not moving at his fastest. You must have noticed."

"Well, yes, I see that. I figured he was training slower for our benefit, not his, so we could see him clearly and make adjustments as needed."

"Perhaps he is." Bulma switched on the intercom. "Vegeta, are you ready for a break?"

He crossed his arms in opposite directions to fire at the drone beams.

"You're breaking my concentration, Bulma! Stop it!"

Bulma saluted at him. "Aye, commander!"

Dr. Brief's lips and mouth tightened. He walked to the window, standing in front of the control panels. Vegeta signaled to him to end that part of the fighting drill completely.

"What's wrong, dad?"

"So did you get it out of your system?"

Bulma didn't like the tone of his voice. "What are you talking about?"

"You slept with him last night, didn't you?"

"I can't believe you!" Bulma hissed. "We're discussing our hard work and now you're interrogating me about him? I don't have time for this."

"I don't care what you have time for, daughter! If you made time for him last night, then you can talk with me now. I hoped that you would listen when we spoke about this before."

"Dad, look, neither of us took advantage of each other."

"That doesn't matter. Vegeta can take care of himself. You are my concern."

"I am an adult. You never had any problem with my other…"

"Damn it, Bulma!" Dr. Brief shut off the 3-D screen. "Vegeta is unlike any other man you've known. Why him? Are you that bored with your life?"

" _Bored?!_ I resent that. There's more to him as a person than you think."

Dr. Brief returned to the control panel. "Let me ask you something. How can you have feelings for a man who loathes your childhood friend? Goku has loved and been kind to you, and he's tried to help others. Time and again Vegeta has been crystal clear about his main objectives. You and I have a reciprocal relationship with him - a quid pro quo - not an everlasting one."

"Goku holds no anger or resentment toward him, daddy."

Dr. Brief looked down into the training area. Vegeta walked along the walls to inspect the room structure more closely.

"That's different from a vulnerable woman sleeping with a man, Bulma.

She held up her hand. "Okay, we aren't doing this anymore. I had a wonderful night, and I want my mood to stay positive."

"Fine then," Dr. Brief said coolly. "I want you to consider this. If the affair continues, I am revoking my offer to run Capsule Corporation. If you can't make wise decisions, then I have no other choice. You will receive your inheritance early because of this decision, but nothing else."

"You're threatening me now?"

"Don't consider it a threat, Bulma. Call it a business decision."

Bulma removed her lab coat. "We should prepare to leave for home. I will capsulize our projects to finish on campus." She closed the door quietly after exiting the room.

Dr. Brief returned to the observation window. "I take it you heard all of that?"

"You meant for me to," Vegeta said. "She had the intercom off before."

"Are you ready to continue your drills?"

"Yes."


	11. Attachments

**Thank you for continuing to comment and follow this story. (Fixed a few dropped words, too.)  
A warning that this chapter contains a violent episode beginning in the middle. It is depicted as a flashback. **

* * *

"Vegeta! Where are you? We're leaving soon. Vegeta?"

"I am here, Bulma." He stood against a tree with his back to her. "You can stop calling for me."

Bulma smiled. "Wow. Glad you're happy to see me, gorgeous."

"The prince of all Saiyans does not have to run just because someone else summons him. Perhaps he has other things to do."

"Other things like what?" Bulma stepped closer, dropping her bag on the ground. "And what's the deal with calling me _someone_? Didn't you say twenty-four hours ago that we're a team? And will you stop speaking like you're describing a separate person?"

"Bulma!" Vegeta clenched his fists. "Just back off. _I_ need to think. Your questions are not helping _me_ do that. Does that sound better?"

She observed his body language. He stood hunched over with his head down, much like the night he appeared at her bedroom door. They hadn't slept together since that night. They shared a long kiss after he used the new training setup - his thank you to her - but that was it. She didn't take his distance personally. Emotions were raw, but this response confused her.

 _Perhaps I can try joking with him.  
_  
"No, big guy, I won't back off. You just did a 360-degree attitude change. I know you're moody, but really?"

"Fine." Vegeta looked up and exhaled. "If you cannot leave me to my own thoughts, then we will return separately to the estate."

"Vegeta!" Bulma stamped her foot on the ground. "What's wrong with you? Why are you shutting me out?"

He flew upward. "I will meet you later."

"Go then!" Bulma hollered. She looked down at her shoes. "Go."

Vegeta landed outside a cavern in the forest, clutching both sides of his head, laughing louder and louder like a possessed man. He shot multiple ki blasts from his hands into the cave until rocks tumbled across the entrance. Then he fell onto his knees, punching the ground until cracks spiraled beneath him. He wanted to murder Dr. Brief on the spot the day before. The old man had beaten him like a professional fighter. Bulma had the most to lose if she didn't concede to her father's wishes.

Where would that leave him?

Attachments were becoming distractions - dangerous even. His quest for ultimate power and vengeance had been denied to him since childhood. Now because of his hard work, the mission he had once been ridiculed for was nearly complete.

Dr. Brief breathed heavily as he heard Bulma running to their machine lab. She threw open the door, cracking the glass windows on both sides of the entrance.

" _Dad, what did you say to him?!_ _What did you say to Vegeta?!_ "

"Something he already knew to be true." He picked up his travel bag. "He heard our argument yesterday."

"What?" Bulma felt like her heart was caving in. "How? _Oh my god_. You turned on the intercom in the observation deck? How could you? I should leave you right here on this mountain!"

"That's fine with me. I can return on my own."

"I hate you!" Hot tears began streaming down Bulma's face. "Oh god, I hate you so much. You had no right!"

Dr. Brief swallowed to hold back his own tears. He was devastated to see his daughter crying, but he feared the prince unlike other men could break her spirit if something went wrong. And those two were falling hard for each other quickly. The look in Vegeta's eyes during training said it all.

"His pride and selfishness blind him, Bulma, along with his ego. He has a great mind, and he's the hardest worker I've ever seen, besides you and Goku, but he may never be satisfied even if he becomes this 'Super Saiyan.' You said that to him once. You told me, remember? Who knows if he stays on Earth afterward?"

Bulma sobbed into her hands. "I have had it with your lecturing! He's not completely selfish. He _is_ fighting here. He hasn't done anything to hurt us or anyone else since he's lived in our home. We're just getting started. Give him a chance."

Dr. Brief reached out for her. Bulma shook her head no. She turned her back on him.

"In your heart you know he's a tortured soul, sweetheart. You can travel without me. I'll see you at home."

He lit a cigarette and walked out the door. Bulma's hands gripped the lab table as she cried.

She had never felt so alone.

###

Vegeta arrived at the Briefs' estate feeling exhausted. His fatigue was more mental than physical, and all he wanted was unconscious sleep without dreams or nightmares. Bulma would return soon enough. He wanted to see her, but his condition was more unstable than he thought. He didn't want to be awful with her again.

He had been given a clean bill of health before leaving the mountain, but he was warned him to avoid triggers for allergic reactions until another set of follow-up tests were performed. He decided that he wouldn't follow this order. Leftover anger about developing this problem was bad enough. He felt fine.

He landed on the grounds, hoping to avoid Bulma's mother and any other Earthlings on two legs who annoyed him. He would sleep in the main house, where he had been before, instead of the guest quarters. That was final. Within minutes he felt something fuzzy slapping his legs before entering his room. He had heard Tama dashing toward him shortly before. He expected it.

"Meow."

"Gods, why must you smite me?" Vegeta laid his arm across his forehead dramatically. "The omen of death is calling. Woe is me."

Tama slapped his legs again and began to purr.

"I should test how well my treatment works." He bent down to her level. "Vile beast, if I die soon my inner thighs will make a tasty meal for you. I am trying to determine whether you are as dumb as a rock for annoying me or bravely protecting territory."

He closed his eyes.

He had a pet once. One his father's attendants, a breeder, gave him an animal on his fourth birthday that most humans would liken to a dog. The gift delighted the young prince. Saiyans held high regard for the animals, known as nions. They could be used in battle or on exploratory missions to lead patrols, detect traps, and serve other needs. Some owners kept the animals for sentimental reasons, although the royal army reserved the right to draft them from anyone at any time for its use.

Being their first-born heir, Vegeta's parents expected their assistants to cater to all of their son's requests - or predict them. The boy's intelligence and early fighting skills also made him a prodigy. Together, these circumstances guaranteed that he would be a lonely child - and an entitled, insufferable brat. The king expected this behavior would lessen over time. He was grooming the boy for leadership. Everyone hoped his future reign would be as powerful as his father's, if not more, but Saiyans were also facing peril - a result of their own doing.

Vegeta's strong attachment to his pet concerned his father, for whom affection was of lesser importance than teaching the boy about power and dominance. There was too much at stake. The boy's talents had attracted the attention of the Saiyans' colonial overlord, Frieza, who was rarely defied when he wanted something. Planet Vegeta had more independence under his rule because of Saiyans' usefulness as overseers and conquerors of other beings across the universe. Yet the king felt his people's livelihoods were endangered. He instilled in Vegeta that one day he would be the most powerful of their people, the warrior of legend. The memory burned inside after his planet was destroyed, along with his parents, even as a part of his soul rotted.

Vegeta had confined himself to his living quarters outside of Frieza's main base. Nappa and Raditz, the prince's remaining Saiyan attendants, were nervous about what would happen to all of them if his behavior continued. Frieza visited him after hearing that the boy was now refusing food and water. It had been a month and Vegeta wasn't meeting expectations for his future service to him and the galactic army.

The boy sat alone in the dark. Frieza, who could barely contain his disgust, activated the lights at the highest level, causing Vegeta to cover his eyes. He bent down and stared at the boy, who didn't move -perhaps out of defiance.

"I heard you're not eating much these days, child. Are you ill? Saiyan monkeys like you are known for being greedy eaters. Perhaps your meals have become unappetizing. Your attendants seem satisfied with it, though. They need to resume your training schedule."

Vegeta stayed quiet. Frieza liked hearing his own voice, apparently. The boy was smart enough to know nothing good would come from interrupting him.

"Oh, I know." Frieza lowered his eyes as if he were distressed. "You're still mourning your parents' deaths. Planet Vegeta's explosion and the deaths of your people were a terrible loss for my empire. Rest assured I'm doing everything possible to find out what happened. Although this won't make up for your tragedy, I do have a gift that might help you feel better."

He nodded to a guard outside of the room who then dragged in a whimpering, tortured nion. Vegeta, whose face showed no emotion, followed the animal's movement with his eyes. He hadn't seen his pet in months after she disappeared from his room.

Frieza's long white tail swished. "I understand this creature once belonged to you. I see you missed each other. What is it called again?"

" _Her_ _name_ is Achmis, Frieza."

"Achmis?" Frieza grinned. "That means 'joy,' yes? That dialect precedes the universal language the gods decreed for all mortals. Oh my, who taught you that? What an interesting boy you are, but then again you're no ordinary five-year-old - and a handsome one, too."

Vegeta glared at him, and then he turned his face away.

Frieza gripped his chin. "Why do you despise me? You don't even know me. I could be a good friend and teacher for you. I don't pay special visits to just anyone, but let's get a few details straight between us. First, you will address me as _Lord Frieza_."

He raised his palm to Vegeta's face, turned and blew Achmis's leg to pieces. The force of the blast hurled the screaming animal against the wall.

"No, no!" Vegeta joined his hands together and fired multiple ki blasts, becoming angrier with each shot. Frieza blocked each hit, blowing holes in the room from all directions.

"Yes! Show me that anger, Prince Vegeta!" Frieza said gleefully. " _Earn your title_!"

Tired and breathless, Vegeta became dizzy and fell. He crawled in his howling pet's direction until Frieza stepped on his back. Cold air blew over him.

"You do have some fire left in you. Good. Your depression and unwillingness to eat have left you weaker than I thought, unfortunately. We should've destroyed this entire shelter together by now."

Vegeta felt himself choking as Frieza wrapped his tail around his neck. He dangled the boy in front of him.

"Your father thought highly of you, Vegeta. He would be disappointed to see you like this. You have a sharp mind and rare, natural talent for battle. It's fine if you want to die under my watch, but I will keep you alive long enough to be tortured until I decide _when_ you die. Instead, you could honor King Vegeta by allowing me to help you. What I'm doing here is for your own good. You will thank me later."

Vegeta's eyes returned to his injured pet. Frieza sighed and threw the boy in her direction.

"What _is it_ about this creature? Let's continue our lessons, shall we? This one is about attachments."

Frieza broke the animal's neck with his tail, killing her instantly. Vegeta slumped across her, but he would not cry.

"You will bring harm to yourself and others with weak emotional attachments such as this." Frieza lifted the boy gently into his arms. "The bond was weak because you weren't willing to stand up fully for Achmis. She is dead now _because_ of you. There is no in-between. Vegeta, I will protect you as long as you listen to me. Your lessons will be difficult, but you'll be one of my strongest warriors if you do what I ask. Your mind must be clear. Understand?"

"Yes."

" _Yes_ _what_?

"Yes, Lord Frieza."

"Very good! Ah, I can smell your bloodlust, child. It excites me. It runs through your Saiyan veins! Come. You will eat with me tonight and resume your training later."

###

Vegeta looked around his room. His eyes were unfocused, and his hands were shaking. He didn't know long he had been dissociated, but he experienced episodes like this before. Tama had been licking his arm and fingers, which must have brought him out of his blackout. Dazed, he spontaneously reached over to pet her.

"I am not like the rest of you, Tama. I am… incapable of love. Your mistress is an attachment I cannot have."


	12. Just a Taste

Bulma found Vegeta tossing restlessly in bed when she returned to the estate. At first she considered rousing him but feared he wouldn't awaken clearheaded. Then, to her surprise, Tama dashed out of his room. She was furious. He had intentionally chosen to expose himself, but this was Vegeta, and she accepted how being taken down by an illness so simple would have enraged him. Luckily he seemed to be fine...physically.

Maybe there would never be an "in-between" for him. So much of his personality centered on being all-or-nothing player, but yet he also expressed longing something more with her. It wasn't just loneliness. They had a chance, but right then Bulma finally chose not to be caught between Vegeta's morass and her father's pressure: neither mattered more than her own self-respect and peace of mind. Vegeta had to fight for her - and for him. Those were her conditions if their relationship were to continue.

She could tell he was awake now by his breathing, but he didn't move. She could sense his fatigue, but she was exhausted too.

"Please don't leave yet."

Bulma let out a small sigh but kept her hand firmly planted on the door knob. The man rarely said please. Maybe this was the first time he said it to her?

 _He's testing whether he can physically approach me._

"Vegeta, you can test how the custom gravity unit works in the spaceship once I finish installing it. My concern is making sure the engine and fuel are powerful enough to maintain the ship's thrust. The unit makes this vessel much heavier than the other Capsule Corp rocket you used for interstellar travel."

Vegeta recognized Bulma's "scientist speak." She was putting emotional distance between them once again. What could he expect? She was following his lead this time.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Bulma ignored the impatient coldness in his voice. He was merely toughening himself for their oncoming discussion. So was she.

"Treat this ship like another home," she continued. "If you're injured, it's now fully equipped with tools to help you return for emergency treatment and healing, much like the space pods you used before coming to Earth. Be careful where you land."

"You are repeating many facts of which I am well aware." Vegeta pulled an exercise shirt over his head and stood. "I watched your work, remember?"

Bulma's grip tightened on the door knob. "It's entirely up to you to decide the location to complete your training either inside or outside of the ship."

Vegeta couldn't stand hearing her flat, emotionless voice anymore. He couldn't help but think she was trying to punish him, and that angered him. No one would ever bully the prince of all Saiyans into apologizing for _anything_ \- no one. Worse, he was still shaken mentally by the flashback.

"Bulma! Stop it right now."

" _Don't you_ _dare snap at me, Vegeta._ You left me on that mountain today as if I had done something wrong. That can't happen anymore. _That won't happen anymore._ "

"I told you I had to think! You would not leave me alone. I just needed time."

Bulma thrust her finger into his chest. "It's amazing to watch you act like a first-class jerk and still make it seem like you're the victim. I will not tolerate it."

Vegeta's eyes slowly scanned the length of her arm until his gaze locked with hers. "You _will not_ tell me what to do."

"So why did you ask me to stay here, Vegeta? Perhaps you didn't hear me correctly. I'm thinking about my needs."

"So _this is_ all about you." Vegeta smiled. Her words proved his earlier suspicions that she had hidden intentions. He wanted to believe that theory, at least. "You could not wait two days after we slept together before attempting to control me. I asked you to stay here so we could agree that what happened between us must end now."

For a minute Bulma thought this was a bad joke. Was this man listening to himself?

Of course he wasn't.

"How am I trying to control you, exactly? You really are delusional. No - you truly are a legend in your own mind."

There was a long silence until Vegeta felt a small gust of wind blow through the window.

"I may be many things, Bulma, but I _am not_ delusional _._ As much as I want to make your father pay for humiliating me, he is right - and guess what, _I will not apologize for it._ What we did together _was_ a mistake. Then, when I heard him threaten your position at Capsule Corp…"

Bulma raised her hand to stop him. "So what you're saying is my tiny father has finally scared you away from being with me. And let me guess, you also assumed I would accept his terms about running Capsule Corp. over being with you - because that's what you would do, right?"

" _Yes!_ _Yes, I would -_ and that's the difference between us. That will always be the difference."

Bulma lifted her chin defiantly. "Don't be so sure about that."

Vegeta reached backward to rub his neck. How could this woman be so naïve? Her behavior almost seemed like willful ignorance. Had she always been like this? He couldn't understand how people with blind spots for others didn't get themselves or anyone else killed. He had proved repeatedly he was unworthy of her "blind spot" for him. He was abandoning his affectionate connection with her after only a couple days. What more proof did she need?

" _Oh, I am sure, Bulma._ While you stand and judge me, consider the intensity of your own work. You _live_ and _breathe_ it as much as I do with fighting - and despite your failure to admit it, that passion can lead to ruthless decision-making. You have the ability to create and destroy with your brilliant mind and raw talent. _That, my dear, is power_. Perhaps you should focus on the benefits."

"And you have an opportunity to be more than what you think you are, Vegeta. I'm not the enemy. You're the one standing in your way - not Goku, not me or my father, not being on Earth, and not even your past."

" _I am fine with who I am!_ " Vegeta shut his eyes as if doing so would block the sting of her words in his mind. "I am… fine with who I am. Now get out."

"You have a choice right here." Bulma stepped forward and placed her hand on his cheek. "When you return to Earth, don't expect that I'll be waiting for you with tears and longing. I have done my job and supported you. Now you have a job to do. That's all I expect now because as I said earlier, I must care for myself."

Vegeta grasped her wrist. "I said leave me." He flinched as he stared into steely, gorgeous blue eyes, and then he looked down. "You…do not understand."

"Oh, but I do understand," Bulma said quietly. "Vegeta, I haven't asked you to give up the core of who you are. You have already convinced yourself that I would."

Shaking his head, he pulled her body against his. They both breathed in heavily as their foreheads touched once more, until they drew each other in for a kiss. He seized her hair to expose the entirety of her neck, moving his tongue down along the contours to her collarbone. Her soft cry had him wet and throbbing instantly. He was sick for this woman - sick - and he had to feel her inside of him again. Just once more.

Bulma tore off his cotton shirt like it was fragile parchment paper. Her mouth dived for his nipples, biting them until his head jolted from the light pinch of her teeth. She needed to taste his body just once more, but this time in a different way.

They stripped naked feverishly and dropped on their knees. Before Vegeta could move any further, Bulma already had his cock in her mouth, her tongue and lips dancing lightly along the tip. A rush of heat ran through his body from the sensation. His eyes widened.

 _"What the hell?"_

He certainly didn't expect this. Clenching his fists, he pulled up his legs and leaned back on the carpet. Bulma's soft, plush lips wrapped around the tip tightening their hold, and with that he leaned back and groaned. His mind blurred further each time her mouth went deeper, until she almost reached the end of his length. He had lost track of time. They both did.

Bulma laid her hand across Vegeta's leg to soothe him. His head moved to the side while he panted. He was holding back. Then he felt Bulma's finger press the back of his length. That one movement pushed him closer to climax. Bulma released his cock from her mouth after feeling that unmistakable hardness of his erection and hearing his strong exhalations. Her hand stroked him until he shivered and came all over her. He didn't speak.

The warm stickiness of Vegeta's come on her chest and arms aroused Bulma, but she was content with the feeling alone. She didn't need more. She only wanted to be in the moment with him before walking away. She wasn't trying to manipulate and weaken him into being with her.

She picked up her clothing and stood. "You have three days left, so I suggest you prepare for them accordingly. My father will handle your lift-off from the launch pad. I won't be there. It's for the best."

She turned the door knob to walk out. He reached over her head to close it.

Later that week, Bulma found Tama yowling mournfully at the site where Vegeta took off into space. The cat continued pacing around until she picked her up. "It's amazing how you became so attached to him. Oh, yes. I knew you did, Tama, but he and I are done for good. Get used to it, babe." She gazed at the sky briefly and then left for her lab. "Back to work."

###

For her protection, Tama had a microchip implanted under her skin that notified Dr. Brief whenever she approached one of his labs. He was deep in thought when the sensor went off. It was late, and his cat's arrival helped him feel better, especially when she promptly climbed onto his shoulder.

"Tama, you always show up at the right time, especially when I have to be unpleasant." He lit his pipe and continued monitoring Vegeta's flight path and communications signals. It had already been a few months since the prince left Earth. Dr. Brief opened a chat signal to reach him.

Vegeta had been thinking about Bulma's final words to him. The thoughts nagged him more each day on the long, silent trip. Dr. Brief's summons was yet another intrusive disturbance, but he had no choice about answering it. If the ship had a problem, he had to know. However, he didn't look at the screen while working the ship's controls. Only when the cat meowed loud enough to wake the dead did Bulma's father get his full attention. Tama's response to seeing Vegeta onscreen surprised her master.

"What do you want, Brief?"

"Well, you do have my ship, Vegeta."

"I will bring it back."

"Yes, you will, because I have provided an incentive," Dr. Brief said with an impish grin, which gradually transformed into a frown. "If your ass isn't back here within six months, the ship will lock you out and leave you stranded wherever you've landed. If you try to get in, the ship will detonate, and, if I planned correctly, blow you up into tiny Saiyan bits."

Dr. Brief had given the prince yet another reason to respect him. No doubt the man was serious. Vegeta suspected that he wouldn't even tell his daughter if something happened to him. His justifiable anger didn't stop him from being darkly amused by the irony. Here he was, an expert destroyer and tactician, outdone once again by this old bastard.

" _Why, you evil old…_ "

Dr. Brief relit his pipe and leaned into the screen. "You're calling me evil? Look, son, I may not know everything, but come on. Give me a break."

"There is no need for you to continue," Vegeta said, "and stop calling me 'son'. You humans may not be as strong as others I have encountered, but my god, you can be devious. I would think leaving me to prepare would be your highest priority."

"Indeed it still is, Vegeta. That's why I'm contacting you. You have another important reason to return, though, beyond fulfilling your seemingly endless desire to demolish things."

"Oh, do I?" Vegeta cut his eyes at him. He didn't like where this was going. "And what would that be?"

Dr. Brief resisted the urge to shake his head. "My daughter is pregnant with your child."

"That cannot be right." Vegeta closed his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I am," Dr. Brief replied. "You are having a son - an heir."

Vegeta switched the screen off. He leaned against the control system with his hand on the side of his head. An heir? He had _nothing_ for this child to inherit from him. The weight on his mind was too severe. It was time to pick a side.

"They… are not my concern now."

Bulma's eyes opened in the darkness of her bedroom. She thought she heard his voice.


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue  
**

* * *

I can't return to sleep. I had been enjoying a relatively peaceful rest for being a heavily pregnant woman - and I mean heavily. I take the discomfort in stride, but sometimes I feel I'm carrying a baby walrus inside of my body. I have to admit that I am ready for this child to come out.

On this night I'm thinking about my child's father and our parting months earlier. It was, indeed, an unusual separation, but nothing about our relationship before that was normal. I pleasured Vegeta in one of the most intimate ways a woman could before he took off into space. He was surprised, which was understandable. We were walking away from a chance at being together - or, rather, he was. Along the way, we had plenty of overheated arguments about our choices that led to this ending.

The intimacy we shared that night together came down to this: I wanted it, and I wanted us to enjoy it. It's that simple. No strings attached. I didn't spend much time immediately afterward analyzing my feelings over what happened or speculating about his reaction. Vegeta may never believe that anyone can give to him freely and openly and not expect something back. I had made my case to him about choosing to be a couple _separately_ from our sexual act together. However, looking back, I can see how what happened may have muddied the waters for him more than me.

Do I love him? Well, yes, but suffering over his inability to commit I will not do. Not now, especially with the baby coming. Given his past behavior, he may also reject any connection to our son. I must be ready for that. I may be hot-headed and impulsive - sometimes - but I am also empathetic. The way Vegeta and I have managed traumas in our individual lives is radically different, and I have always had a strong support system to fall back on. Having a child can bring out the best in a person - or the worst, depending on that person's insecurities and fears. He's incapable of giving this child the emotional support that I can.

No surprise that my father was furious when I announced my pregnancy. He was smart enough, though, not to ask if I was trying to trap Vegeta into staying with me. (Nope.) That insult would have been the ultimate breaking point for our relationship. He apologized about Capsule Corporation. Although I am the most qualified person to run the company, I made it clear that he had a right to do whatever he desired. However, if he wanted me to take the job, then there would be no more emotional blackmail whatsoever. I meant it. To be fair, now that I'm going to be a parent, I'm starting to understand better why he acted the way he did after Vegeta and I became closer. The awareness hit me months ago, and all at once, after my at-home pregnancy test kit results turned out positive. I fainted in my bedroom. Afterward, I ordered a sausage pizza and ate a tub of chocolate ice cream.

Oh well, I guess I deserve this payback a little bit. It may sound strange, but thoughts like this help me laugh through my own anxiety about the future.

I'm hauling myself out of bed to gaze at the stars. It's crazy, but I thought I heard Vegeta's voice tonight. I know he's all right physically. I'm just not sure about the rest.

I do miss him.

The baby and I will be fine, though. Our world will be protected. I have to believe that. Hope must win... for everyone's sake.

* * *

 **Author's notes: Hello, everyone! I wrote this closing section after noticing new followers. You inspired me. Thank you for supporting my work. I don't see writing a sequel anytime soon, but I am delighted that you enjoyed the story.**


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